


The Job

by Corviswolf



Series: The Job [1]
Category: Fandom (Anthropomorphic), Furry (Fandom), Original Work
Genre: Anthro, Anthropomorphic, Ball Growth, Dad - Freeform, Drugs, Dystopia, F/M, Food, Fur, Furry, Future, Growth, M/M, M/Solo, Male - Freeform, Mind Break, Penis Growth, Precum, Science, TF, Transformation, anthro-horse, balls, cock growth, equine, father - Freeform, forced shifting, furry-horse, horse, pre, scifi, were-horse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:01:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 50,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25777051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corviswolf/pseuds/Corviswolf
Summary: A family is pushed to the edge in a future dystopia. How far will their father go to make sure he can provide for his family?
Series: The Job [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1870009
Comments: 2
Kudos: 32





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

\--------------

“Honey, you know you don't have to do this, we can find another way.” Emily’s arms wrapped around Stan’s slim figure, pulling him backwards as she leaned into him. 

“You know I do,” Stan said sadly as he looked into his wife's bright green eyes reflected in the bathroom mirror. The bottle of red pills the agency sent over laid un-opened on the bathroom sink. His heart beat like a drum in his chest. The safety seal unbroken. With a grim determination he grabbed the bottle, his hands fumbled with the top as he struggled to open the safety container. With a loud *pop* he finally opened the bottle and poured a few of the large red pills into his hand.

“Did they say how many to take?” he asked his wife, still clinging to him like he was in danger of drowning. He could feel her anxiety as if it had transferred through her arms into him.

“Don’t...I can get a job, my parents can move in and look after the kids...we can make it work” she practically sobbed into his back. 

Stan put down the pills on the counter as he turned to his wife of the last twenty years. His own eyes started to tear up. He hugged her close, snuggling her head next to his. 

“It's going to be hard, but we can get through this. We can get through anything.” he comforted as they rocked slowly in their tiny bathroom. Her back caressed the kids’ still-wet towels from the night before. 

After a while, fighting her own anxiety and sadness she sniffled “They said….they said…” she collected herself. “Four pills the first day... two a day after until….” she trailed off. 

“How about I start tomorrow, would that make it easier?” Stan offered, reading the distress etched into her face. Emily thought about it for a moment and shook her head. 

“Today, tomorrow, it's the same. Take them.” she said with a deep sigh that seemed to expel all the remaining air in her lungs.

“Don’t worry, they said it doesn’t hurt….that much” he tried to joke as he kissed her forehead, doing his best to muster the beginning of a smile before he turned to take the pills he had already doled out.

He slid them into his mouth, filled the small provided cup with water and tossed his head back as he swallowed all four in one go. Their size pressed on his esophagus as they traveled down towards their ultimate destination. Stan pursed his lips as the taste of the pills’ bitter coating stayed with him, coating his tongue.

“Ok honey, it's over.” He assured Emily as he turned to find her with her eyes squeezed closed, unable to watch. “Come on lets get some lunch, I’m starving.” he beckoned as he held her hand and led her out of their shared bathroom and into the hallway. He didn't want to admit how afraid he was himself, he had to be strong for her, for the kids.

Stan stopped in his tracks as he passed their children's rooms, the full weight of what he was doing suddenly hit him. He looked back at his wife, who he had shared so much of his life with and hugged her again. As they stood there, his wife's delicate frame pressed against his own. His resolve grew. He wouldn't let them down, it was his duty as a father to provide for his family.

The day went on as many had as of late. Stan without a proper job did little things around the house that needed doing. Emily got the kids’ lunches ready in the kitchen. Both of them trying to forget that Stan had taken the pills just hours earlier. Stan helped Emily cut the green moldy blotches off their last good loaf of bread so that Emily could make sandwiches. They didn't have enough money for the school’s clean synthetic meals so they had to barter what little they had to provide what they could. Stan and Emily both exchanged worried looks as they packed the last of the meals away into pre-used plastic bags. 

As Stan zipped up the last of the cloudy sandwich bags he felt a strange pinching on the sides of his head. His hearing became muffled as a high-pitched ringing grew ever-louder. He rubbed the sides of his head when he noticed Emily staring at him in disbelief. 

“Stan?” he saw her mouth in shock, his hearing still uncooperative. 

“Stan? Can you hear me?” her voice faded in as the pinching dissipated and the ringing became more subdued. He shook his head yes, afraid to speak as he brought his hands up to the sides of his head. His own eyes went wide as he felt smooth skin where his ears had been just moments before. 

“Your ears…” she trailed off as she reached out to touch the side of his face, their hands meeting. 

“It's ok honey, I’m ok” he assured her as the ringing finally disappeared. “How...how do they look?” 

“They are...different...that's for sure,” she replied cautiously, he could see her putting on a brave face for him. Stan sighed as he detached his hand from hers and moved it higher and higher before he was met with a small triangular nub of skin that now contained his ear canal. 

“Wow, that was fast...did they say it was supposed to happen this fast?” he asked, feeling a growing concern deep in his gut.

Before Emily could answer they heard the familiar footsteps of their oldest stomping in their direction.

“Hey guys,” Kevin said in his normal cheery camber as he sat down at the dining table, slinging his heavy bag onto the worn surface before diving into his well-loved tablet. Stan quickly went to cover his head with a nearby baseball cap before Kevin could look up. He artfully avoided any mention of the pills or drawing attention to his complete lack of visible ears. Thankfully, like most kids their age, he was so engrossed in his own world that they hardly paid attention to the one around them. 

“Where's your brother and sisters?” Emily asked. 

“Oh….” Kevin looked up as the small lights in the back of his eyes flickered scanning the limited access sub-net. “Oh ok” he looked back down at his tablet. 

“Well?” Emily asked, a little frustrated.

“Oh right, looks like they are with Jenny and her family, over near the west exclusion zone” as he read the feed out-loud for his parent’s benefit. 

“Well can you tell them I want them back by dinner tonight?”

“I keep telling you, it's only one-way. If I could get the G6 upgrade I could…” Kevin answered back smartly.

“And I keep telling you no,” Emily cut him off in the most commanding parental tone she could muster given all the things spinning through her mind at the moment.

“Come on take your lunch and get going, your mother made it special,” Stan handed Kevin the best of their freshly-packed moldy-bread sandwiches. 

“Ahh man…” Kevin’s face dropped as he took the dirty plastic bag like he had been handed a dead marsh-swarmer. 

“None of that, come on, get going it's almost noon.” Stan said in as commiserating a tone as he could. 

“Ok, ok...” Kevin grabbed his bag, stuffed the sandwich somewhere deep inside and strapped on his filtration mask as he went to leave.

“Have a good day!” Both Stan and Emily chimed in unison as he gave a half-hearted wave on his way out the half-broken outer door.

Stan sighed as Kevin disappeared out the door. They watched him from the small porthole of a window in the kitchen until he disappeared over the hill towards the west markets. If he had noticed Stan’s lack of visible ears he did a good job of hiding it. Emily went back to her kitchen duties as Stan ducked down under the sink and retrieved a company-branded metal shipping container. Emily looked up with sad eyes and let out another resigned sigh as Stan hoisted it onto the living room table with a mighty *thunk*. It felt heavier than he remembered it being when they dropped it off the day before. He stared at its gleaming silver expanse for a long time before he got enough willpower to unpack it. The latches clicked open easily enough, he half-expected fog or a mystical light to issue out like in the movies. To his disappointment there were just packets of reading materials. The first page was his test results, green checkmarks all the way down. Probably why they had rushed him up the list.

He tried to read the test results but they were over his head, he could barely understand the ingredients on the cheese-flavored food cubes they ate. Below it were the same marketing and coercion packets they had shown him when he had signed up. It felt like ages ago. A quick refresher couldn't hurt. 

As he read through the marketing pamphlets provided they did nothing to assuage the growing and persistent churning fear in his gut. The brochures spoke of what an exciting time he was entering. The packet on his duties in the profession was only on a few glossy semi-transparent pages. He tried to be as casual as he could as he flipped through it. What he saw inside made his eyes bulge and hands shake. He was too embarrassed at signup and testing to look at that one, and now he felt that same feeling in his own home. Stan put it away quickly under the box hoping Emily wouldn’t take notice before he could dispose of it. His cheeks felt flushed as he reached for the final brochure. As he read the high-level benefits of his new position the words flowed out of his mind just as quickly, unable to gain purchase over the pictures of the previous brochure now obscured under the metal container.

His father had always told him that courage was doing something even though you are afraid. That was just about the perfect description of what he was feeling right now. Below the brochures there were enough waivers and contracts to sign that if he focused could keep him busy enough to not think about what he was signing up for.

Stan got busy signing, not bothering to read more than half of the first liability contract. He signed and signed, his eyes darting between pages looking for the “SIGNATURE HERE” tags the company helpfully placed on the forms. Having signed his name what seemed like hundreds of times he finally reached the bottom of the box. There was a note thanking him for his participation on what looked like real paper. He rubbed in between his fingers, creased it. It was worth saving if nothing else. Below the card was a vacuum-sealed package marked “AST. CLOTHING - PLEASE OPEN AFTER STAGE 6”. He grabbed hold of the surprisingly heavy stack of compressed fabric and began to draw it out of the case to set it aside. 

He thought that they had made a mistake and sent him multiples, the clothes were at least ten inches thick even with all the air removed, the bundle felt like it was somehow heavier than the entire case had been. He twisted open the airlock on the container, only reading the label after the wheezing-whining sound of the clothes re-airing was too far along to stop. He tried to twist it closed again but it was a one-time latch, the cheap plastic handle broke off in his hand as the package below it ballooned. Stan sighed as he began to unload the clothes from the bag onto the table. It was hard to tell what some of the pieces were for. Then pulled out what he assumed were...no…it seemed impossible. It had to be something else. He looked down at himself and then up at the unfurled proportions of the garment he held. There was no way. This was a mistake.

Stan felt his heart begin to race. He hastily stuffed the clothing back into the box and shuts the top. Stan’s breathing ragged and fast. What had he done? He had to get some air! Maybe he could make himself vomit. Thoughts were racing through his head faster than he could act on them. He got up and stumbled towards the kitchen. His legs suddenly felt like jelly as his stomach gurgled. He felt like he was going to throw up. He wretched and dry-heaved a couple times, almost collapsing. He wasn't going to make it to the kitchen. His shaky arms used the table for support as he continued to heave. 

His heart was beating a million miles a minute as he coughed between heaving breaths. Sweat beaded and poured down his face as the muscles in his neck strained. His fingers scratched at the table's rough surface as his chest grew tight. No, there was still time. It was panic, it wasn’t happening yet he told himself. But he knew that was a lie. Knowing what was coming didn’t stop the fear that had gripped him. All his determination felt like it had evaporated in that moment as he was helpless to stop it.

“Emily!!! I need you!!!! Emileeeeeee!!!!” he cried out as his back suddenly spasmed. His vertebrae cracked and crunched, wrestling for position as the skin on his back stretched to accommodate his growing spine. It was growing thicker by the moment in great spasming waves. He staggered from the table to the entrance to the kitchen. The door-jam his only support. Emily had disappeared from the kitchen.

“Emilleeee!!!” he screamed again through the wracking convulsions that ran up and down his torso. His eyes squeezed shut as tears forced their way out from the corners of his eyes. His ribs surged outward in pairs with a series of excruciating cracks as they realigned themselves. Stan’s unremarkable chest barrelled outward as it grew too big for his frame. His thighs and pressed tightly against his worn and ragged pants as their fabric groaned. He felt a stirring in his crotch as the cuffs of his pants pulled halfway up the length of his undefined calves as his legs grew longer beneath him. His hands clutched at the door’s frame as spittle flew from his mouth with every immensely heavy breath. Through the barrage of pain and creaking bones Stan could still make out the growing tightness in the crotch of his pants as his bony ass cheeks began to plump. His flaccid three-inch cock throbbed against his tight underwear like he was having a dry orgasm. 

A shock of pain travelled from his neck up into and through his head, turning his muffled moans and cries into ones of desperation. His hands clutched his head as he fell to his knees.

“It hurts! Oh god! Oh god! Oh gHnnnnnghhh!!!” Stan’s face began to push outward. He could feel his nasal cavities reforming and expanding through his face with every strained breath. His jaw almost dislocated as it grew longer. He could see his bottom row of teeth jutting out from his face. He couldn’t process what was happening as his lower jaw was hesitatingly joined by his upper palate several seconds later with a series of painful cracks. His pale white skin stretched and deformed over his changing features as it struggled to catch up. His already changed ears grew larger and continued to move upward on his head as the skin stretched. Stan hardly noticed his balls as they swelled to the size of two small kiwis between his legs. His attention was focused on his face as his hands grasped at his distending cheeks, in an almost hysteria. It felt like his body was on fire.

“Fuck! FffUCK! Fuu….urrghhh!!!” He half-screamed, half-moaned. Stan was not one to curse so freely, but the pain was everywhere. His pleas devolved into a guttural moan from somewhere deep inside him. Tears ran down his bulging, still reconfiguring face. His cock hadn’t stopped pulsing throughout. The tightness in his crotch was only getting worse as a thickening flesh worked its way down one of his pant legs, almost folding over itself as it ran out of room in his briefs. He collapsed fully onto the floor, unable to keep himself upright any longer. The pressure in his crotch was now his point of focus as his hands tore wildly at the fabric. It was getting worse by the moment as the length of hot throbbing flesh continued to thicken and work its way slowly down his sausage-tight thigh. 

“GAH!! UNNGHHH!” Stan moaned as he finally managed to undo the buckle of his overtaxed belt and somehow wiggle his widening hips out of the confines of the ragged pants. His hands were a flurry as they grasped for his cock. They wrapped around the base and somehow yanked it free from its containment. Blood rushed into his tool as soon as it was freed, its length painfully erect as it bobbed needfully atop his thigh. It was bigger than normal, too big. But he didnt care. He needed it. He moaned as he gripped both hands around its turgid length. He felt the angry glans of his cock throbbing against his hand, spitting a few small drops of wetness into his palm. It felt good, it was the only thing that felt good. He needed more.

“Uhhhh...uhhnn...uhhnnn!!!” he moaned as he began to furiously masturbate on the floor. Unable to stop himself. his whole body rocked as long tears began to split down the old worn seams of his pants. He hardly noticed his hugely swollen, now lemon-sized balls slapping against the base of his hands as they frantically moved up and down his tool. The few drops of precum had become a continuous trickle from his engorged and angry urethra. He let out a gurgling moan as his tool thickened and lengthened in his hands, growing to accommodate the length of both his hands side by side. The hard flesh pulsed under his grip as the veins running up and down its length thickened. The precum was wetting his fingers and angry-red shaft in slick lubricant, allowing him to ply at his now eight-inch cock faster and faster.

He felt like his whole body was filled with fire. The muscles in his neck tensed as his newly elongated back arched underneath him. His hips thrust upwards as his feet kicked at the floor, his whole body turning to the side as he finally came. A single long thick ribbon of white glistening cum ejaculated from between his legs, splattering the floor with the glistening seed. Stan didn’t notice or care in that moment. The orgasm felt like it would last a lifetime as his cock continued to shudder in the grip of his tight hands. His enlarged balls convulsed between his thighs. The lemon-sized balls pulled upward in their sac several times, seemingly in defiance of the limited product they had produced.

Stan laid there, holding his still-erect cock shuddering for what seemed like hours. And then it was over. The pleasure faded, the pain faded. And finally his cock began to lose its rigidity. The house was silent. Stan’s head slumped backwards onto the floor as he lay there panting, trying to collect himself. The changes had left him with a face and body halfway between man and...something else. A deep ache permeated through his every bone and fiber. He couldn’t believe he had just cum on their floor. He struggled to get up. His body felt wrong, too big and too small at the same time. Things felt out of place...inside of him. As he got up his pants fell around his calves, the cuffs still stuck by his swelling legs. He hastily tried drawing them up but found that the waist no longer fit around him. The latch on the pants was several inches short of being able to do its job. He gave up and peeled the torn pants off his legs, almost falling several times before extricating the final bit of the garment from him. He stood there in their living room, a long streak of congealing cum across the floor, a ruined pair of pants and what remained of his underwear doing its best to give him some modesty. Surveying the scene he noticed his face was now in the view of his eyes. When he gathered enough courage to touch his face he found contours he no longer recognized. His jaw had only grown a few inches but it was enough that it felt like he was touching the face of a stranger...or a beast.

“Honey? I heard noises... where are you?! Is everything...” Emily briskly walked into the room, her hands still covered with suds from the laundry she was doing on the roof. Stan’s heart dropped as her expression changed from one of deep concern to abject horror as she took in what stood before her. Stan tried to comfort her, but as he reached out she took a step away.

“Emily...itth...itth me. Ith ok….” he tried to assure her as he reached out a hand. Only realizing it was still covered in partially dried pre when it was too late.

“I’m sorrth...we thnew thith was going to happeth,'' his words were slurred, his mouth didn't want to move correctly, his teeth banged into each other like billiard balls as he spoke. His eyes couldn’t maintain the connection with hers as he looked at the floor. It was too painful to see her look at him like this. 

“No! No...I know...but...so soon...it...it…” Emily trailed off. 

“I can goth in...stoph the….reverth it...ith you want…” Stan said, unsure if he hoped she would agree. They needed this, they both knew it. After what he had just gone through he didn't imagine it was going to get much better for what came next. But this was the only way. Before he knew what was happening Emily was in his arms, pressing her body against him in a full embrace. Stan sobbed as he hugged her back. Her head now fit neatly under his chin, he hadn't realized how tall he had grown, at least six inches or more. His expanded chest made her feel further away from him even in the shuddering hug they shared. It only made him feel like he had made a terrible mistake as he gazed down at his sobbing wife past his long inhuman face.

“It's still you isn't it?” Emily asked looking up at him, her hand hesitantly caressing the side of his face, unintentionally smearing it with soap. He nodded, unsure what else to say. 

“Oh god Stan…” she sobbed as she ran her fingers over the contours and creases of distended visage.

“Oth coursth it ith, I need your helth honey. If I am gointh to get through this.” Stan gestured to himself. His jaw was cooperating more now that he was getting used to it. But it wasn't done, he wasn’t done. He knew where this all was heading towards. He looked into her beautiful green eyes, unsullied by the dirt and grime that soaked their lives. He knew what he had to do. It was courage. It was for them. They knew what this meant. For them, for their kids. Stan felt his old resolve grow in his chest. He would bear any pain for them. Even if it meant giving up his very humanity.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stan may have underestimated what this job and the accompanying changes would take out of him. Can he survive the changes as the company delivers a surprise?

Chapter 2

\--------------

They held each other for a long time, their bodies subtly swaying with the constant low rumble of the machines flying overhead. He felt her body's heat against his, her familiar form felt strange against his chest. Finally Stan broke their embrace as he tried to lighten the mood. 

“Could use a towel though,” Stan chuckled as he gestured to his elongated soapy face. His own laughter sounded and felt oddly nasal with his pushed-out face. He wanted to stop as soon as he started, it felt too strange. His teeth and tongue connected with each other at strange tangents. Nothing in his body felt right, like he was balanced over a precipice but unable to fall one way or the other.

“I would prefer it if you used it to clean yourself off,” Emily glanced at his still pre-splattered hands briefly before her eyes moved to the ribbon of splattered cum on the floor, “and that.” she said matter of factly in what verged on a monotone. Stan could tell she was bottling up her feelings, he didn’t want her shutting down seeing him like this as she sometimes did. He needed her.

“And put on some pants...the kids could be home any minute.” Emily said as she collected herself. Her monotone broke as she saw her husband's now flaccid penis waving from between the torn folds that made up the front of his briefs. She had never seen him so big before, he looked at least twice his normal soft size. She shook her head to clear her thoughts as she wiped her hands on her long ragged apron.

Stan sighed, his body felt heavy as he sat down on one of their creaky prefab chairs. The papers he had so neatly signed and organized were strewn across the table a result of his...episode. He began to collect them as Emily handed him a dish towel, her face unable to conceal her worry as she forced a smile for his benefit. He returned the smile as best he could, but saw her sudden recoil as he revealed his newly distended teeth. Stan quickly covered his mouth to hide himself.

“No...No I didn’t mean to…” Emily suddenly cried, tears welled in her eyes, her brief facade broken. 

“Ith ok...I know how it must look” Stan tried to assure her even as he held his hands in front of his mouth. His speech was growing more confidence and clear, the slurs caused by his lengthed bones more under his control.

“What are we going to tell the kids?” She looked at the floor as she rubbed her temples. 

Stan removed his hands from his partially formed muzzle and set them on the table. “The truth, there won't be anyth good hidinth it.”

Emily nodded silently before wiping her eyes with her calloused fingers. They stared in silence at each other, unsure what to do next. The pregnant silence between them was only broken by a perfectly timed knock on the door. 

“INGLESTOFF OVERRIDE AAA...ACCCCEPTED.” Their house’s limited computer slurred. Before Emily or Stan could react the door lurched open. 

“Delivery.” the man said gruffly as he dragged a dolly laden all the way to the handle with heavy cylindrical tubs. 

“What...we’re...what are you doing?!? My husband is not decent!” Emily practically shrieked at the delivery man. The man shrugged, seemingly unaffected by the situation or Stan’s appearance. 

“Please sign.” The man said with no small measure of exasperation as he produced a small white pad from the side of his uniform.

Emily began wiping her thumb on her apron, anxious to have the man leave as soon as possible.

“Not you, has to be him.” The delivery man nodded towards Stan. 

“No no, she can, I’m not…” Stan stuttered, suddenly painfully aware of his exposed and tattered briefs. The table was the only thing protecting his modesty from the company delivery man. He was now hyper-aware of his newly swollen testicles pressing against his inner thighs. His cock began to throb somewhere deep in its root from the sudden stress.

The man saw his reluctance to stand and immediately walked over to the table. His heavy metallic boots clanked on their old floors. The delivery man was obviously anxious to keep moving through his day rather than out of a sense of courtesy as he extended the tablet towards him. Stan wondered how many similar situations he had walked into to be so jaded. He didn’t seem to even notice that Stan was already in transition.

Stan held up his hand and put his thumb on the device. 

The pad flashed red as it buzzed under his finger. The words “NOT RECOGNIZED!” scrawled over the screen.

“Try again.” the man said, with a tired detachment.

Stan removed his thumb, wiped it on the strained shirt that covered his distended torso and pressed it again. His cock was starting to fill with pulses of hot blood as it shifted position and pressed against what few shreds of underwear he still had. He squeezed his legs together, compressing his bloated testicles, which somehow made the blood pulsing deep in the base of his penis only worse.

“NOT RECOGNIZED! PROTOCOL 4.5: REMAND ONLY TO PERSONS: STANLEY YOUNG.” the tablet buzzed again.

“Try your pinky, it goes last.” the man signed with a growing impatience.

Stan squirmed in the chair as he curled his fingers into a fist, save for his pinky, and pressed it to the tablet hard enough to make his knuckle turn white. He felt exposed.

“ACCEPTED!” the pad blared as the screen turned green. The delivery man flipped the pad over, tapped a few quick commands and pocketed the tablet with a practiced precision.

“What do you mean it goes last?” Stan asked. The delivery man ignored him and proceeded to eject the heavy canisters from the dolly and without another word or glance left their home. The door wheezed shut behind him until it finally latched closed.

“What are these?” Emily asked first as she walked around the tower of canisters the delivery man had left.

“Let me take a look…” Stan said as he scrambled up from the chair and grabbed one of the canisters from the top of the stack. Forgetting he was sporting the beginnings of a stress boner, his half-chubbed cock flapped through the largest burst seam in his undergarment. He blushed as he managed to temporarily tuck it back into the uncooperative underwear. His balls made it especially hard as they bloated the bottom of the fabric something awful, the bumpy wrinkled flesh practically poured out of the small tears. He was ashamed to think about how many of the holes were there before he started changing. Looking up Stan could see Emily staring, just as quickly she averted her eyes.

“What are you a teenager? Come on, this is hard enough!” Emily cracked a faint smile despite the sternness of her words. Her cheeks grew flush despite herself.

“Sorry, sorry…” Stan sputtered as he put back the canister to cover his privates.

“I think...they are...food?” Emily ascertained as she got a better look at the labels. 

“STAGE 1 - 23.5KCAL,” she read out loud. The letters practically screamed, they were so boldly printed.

“23.5 KCAL? Kilocalories? This can’t be right...twenty-three thousand calories?!?” Stan took the canister from his wife’s hands to re-read the label, completely forgetting about his modesty from the sudden shock. That was more calories than their whole family ate in a week by his quick mental math. He stood there dumbfounded. 

“Hold on, what did the packets say?” Emily inquired as she went over to the metal box and began to sift through the materials. Stan’s heart raced as she scanned through the papers, he didn't want her to see what was underneath the box...not yet. 

“Here we go,” she said as she pulled out a plastic yellow card. “Stage 1, Lasts up to three days….hmmm humm hmmm….” she hummed as she quickly traced through the instructions. “Please consume your designated stage canister provided before engaging in sleep, rest or other restive activities and no later than nine pm local calibrated time... You must finish the entirety of the canister in a single sitting and at the designated time or...your contract will be voided effective immediately?!?” Emily said with an escalating surprise, her voice climbed a pitch higher as she read the last few words.

“What do they mean voided Stan? Can they do that?” 

“They can do anything they wanth, you know that.” Stan said with a measure of dejection. His whole body ached. He never wanted to back out more than now that everything was all in front of him. The mountain of canisters was his to eat. The volume of which seemed to well exceed his entire body by several times. There had been many times over the past few years he would have given anything to have that kind of food for his family, but now staring at enough calories to last them a year made his stomach churn. Any growing chubby he had been developing quickly deflated as he turned over the heavy canister in his hands.

Emily glanced at the clock hung from the rear wall. It was nearing four. She looked back at the large canister her husband held, it was almost a foot tall and just as wide around. 

“Do you think...you should start now? It's just so much…” she trailed off.

Stan nodded and took a deep breath. He felt his tight shirt pop an unseen seam somewhere on his back from the exertion. He set the canister on the table and began to unscrew the top. The perfume that almost immediately wafted from the opened container was an acrid, almost sour smell that made his lips pucker over his thickened teeth. The “food” inside was no more than a swirled brown viscous goo. He couldn’t help but recoil as its odor filled his nostrils. He could practically taste it on his tongue as it filled his head. It smelled like nothing he had ever encountered before, somewhere between street garbage and a rotting flower.

“Oh yuck!” Emily smelled it too. “Are you sure it's still good?” 

“I don’t think it can spoil…” Stan’s eyes boggled at the infinitesimally small ingredient list below the caloric label, some of which had been redacted by the company.

“Maybe...maybe it tastes better than it smells…and looks...” Stan groaned as he grabbed a spoon from the utensil cup on the table and sank it hesitantly into the mixture. As easily as the spoon sank in it didn’t want to come out again, the suction of the mixture held it in place before releasing it with a *pop*. Stan eyed and sniffed it, as its viscous brown body jiggled on the spoon. The viscous stuff wasn't any better up close. He looked down past the utensil at the huge cylinder of the stuff and gulped. There was no way he could get through all that before nightfall. It seemed impossible, but if he didn’t, he could lose everything. 

He realized he hadn’t eaten since the first changes. Changes like he was going to go through didn’t get their energy from nowhere. His eyes winced closed as he shoved the spoon in his mouth. He choked almost immediately as the utensil went too deep past his lips to where his muscle memory told him that his mouth should have been. Stan couldn’t help but wheeze for breath as some portion of the ooze went down the wrong pipe. After he finished gasping and clearing out the gunk from his windpipe the gelatinous mixture left in his mouth dissolved over his tongue.

“EECHHHH!!! Eccchhh!!!” he gagged, it tasted horrendous as it had smelled, worse even. Despite that he felt a pang in his soured stomach. The earlier transformation had drained him, even if the changes were minor compared to what the brochures promised was to come. The taste was like rotten lizard eggs left out in the sun. He spat, or at least as best he could, most of the stuff that hadn’t dissolved colored his phlegm brown. His ill-shaped mouth was unable to fully expel his spittle as it dribbled pitifully down his face.

Emily raced over to pat his back, trying to help him clear what seemed like an obstruction by the way he was choking on the substance. 

“Hahhh...hahhh…” Stan waved Emily off through teary eyes. 

“I’m ok...are..are they...trying to kill me?” he gasped between attempts to spit out the rest of the taste still swirling around his mouth. His stomach gurgled. It felt suddenly like he hadn’t eaten in a week. He had never felt at the same time so sickened and suddenly so hungry. His hand grasped the spoon so hard he felt like he may break its metal length in his hand.

As he stood there breathing hard, his free hand using the table as a brace, the taste on his tongue started to...change. The rot gave way to something else. Something almost sweet. He couldn't explain it. Before he realized what he was, almost without thinking, he went for another spoonful. The stuff dissolved on his tongue as he sloshed it around to confirm the change. It tasted like...something delicious and rare, he only had distant memories of having it. It tasted like freshly baked bread. 

“Honey...are you ok?” Emily said with no small amount of concern, seeing her husband’s sudden attitude flip within moments from disgust to enrapture as he dug into the canister. 

“Mmmph...cant exlphane...tasthed bath, but nowth…” Stan shook his head as he practically shoveled the substance into his mouth by the heaping spoonful, unable to stop long enough to get a clear sentence out. 

“Ith athully really goodth!” he exclaimed as he ate with growing speed. He felt his whole body grow hot again, like when the pills took effect. But he was so hungry, he needed to eat.

Stan gurgled and moaned in what seemed like ecstasy as he ate. Emily wanted to tell him to stop, tell him he was scaring her as he shoveled the disgusting smelling goo into his mouth. But she knew what this meant for them as much as he did. She wasn't a fool, she knew what he had signed up for. To become a monstrous thing. Her Stanley. Emily couldn't help but choke back a sob as her husband frantically consumed the canister’s contents. 

“Urrnnnnhhhh!” Stan groaned as his face began to extend further away from his eyes as he ate. It pinched, but it hurt less than the first time. His gums throbbed with a deep pulsing ache like somebody was pulling his teeth outward. The spoon was a flurry between his lips as he licked every morsel off of the rough utensil. His cock throbbed harder and harder the more he ate, his manhood easily navigating its way out of the compromised underwear.

Stan’s heart raced. The more he ate the faster it beat. His whole body felt flush, claustrophobic in his remaining clothes. With his free hand he clutched at the collar of his shirt trying desperately to give himself some air. His ass cheeks clenched. His butt had the same throbbing ache as if he had sat for hours on a hard board. He clutched and attempted to massage his cheeks with his free hand as they began to round-out and swell behind him. 

“Orrrhhnnnnn…” Stan couldn’t stifle a moan as his hand soon found purchase on the growing muscle and fat of his backside.

The overstretched elastic of his underwear rolled over itself above his deepening crack. The throbbing of hot blood through his cock moved lower, seemingly churning through his balls as they pressed excruciatingly into his thighs. He could feel them growing, tightening. His balls began to tax the small tears in the bottom of his underwear as the fabric tightened over his increasingly virile orbs. Stan’s hand instinctively migrated from his swollen rear cheek to cupping his testicles. His balls were almost too large for him to hold in one hand as his member flopped in front of him, jerking ever upward with fresh hot blood.

The surprisingly heavy sac pressed into his palm, he could feel his heart beat in his orbs. His original walnut-sized balls had never throbbed. The monstrous nuts he now sported were like nothing he had ever seen or felt. The exposed flesh of his sac that peeked through the tears in his briefs was red-hot and incredibly sensitive. He hefted and tried to massage them with his thumb to work out the intense low ache. As soon as his thumb pressed into the firm flesh lightning ripped through his body. Stan couldn't suppress a sudden whole-body convulsion. His back arched backwards as he was forced to stop eating, the food dribbling down his face as his head craned backwards. The half-filled spoon dropped to the floor with a loud clatter. The muscles in his neck were tensing so hard they felt like they might break. 

“Heelpp….Emileeeeee…” he cried as his eyes rolled in his head. His lips curled back exposing his growing teeth as thick muscles compounded and built on his narrow shoulders, extending a growing triangle of muscle to his strained neck. Veins bulged up and down his throat as his head grew at least an inch or two further away from his shoulders despite the strain. The muscles in his neck were fighting the change with all their might as they pulled his elongated head backward. His cock jutted into the air, all eight inches fully erect, bobbing with his body's movements as beads of milky precum formed and dribbled down its veiny length.

“Whatthh happening to meeeehhhhnnnnghhh!!” he cried out, his voice briefly deepening before returning to its normal octave, but no less full of pain and fear. His penis jerked and pulsed as it added another inch to its already substantial length. Its base thickening as the muscles in the overtaxed skin engorged further. His glans was red and angry as it pushed outward with a painful, verging on pleasurable, pinching. 

He felt like he had been thrown into a vat of molten lead, everything burned. His hands flailed, grasping his chest. He felt his wife attempt to grab his clammy grasping hands with her calloused thin digits. He tried to hold them. He tried. It should have made him feel better but too much was happening all at once. It was too much. His hands flew out of her grip as his hands pulled and scraped madly at his still slowly extending face. 

“Oh god..oh god…” Stan could hear his wife crying nearby. He wanted to comfort her. He wanted 

“EmilARRGHHH!!” Stan screamed as another violent shudder wracked his body. His rib cage began to expand again. His ribs were not only growing but thickening as they stretched skin that wasn't meant to be stretched. His backbone felt like it was trying to force itself out of his body as his vertebrae enlarged. His tattered shirt became too tight to bear. His shoulders locked in place as they widened with a series of sickening pops, his collarbone stretched to reconnect as his frame expanded. His tongue felt too big for his mouth as it extended to meet his teeth. The muscle writhed uncontrollably as it tried to fit itself into his extending maw. 

Stan doubled over, falling to the floor once again as the strength of his legs failed him. His thighs were stretching longer as his calves shortened slightly. He was breathing hard, long trails of spittle were leaking from his mouth as he tried to right himself. It was no use as his legs kicked worthlessly under him. His painfully erect nine-inch cock flopped against his stomach as the shirt finally began to rip down its seams, giving him some relief. Precum dribbled in a thin strand to the floor from his turgid tool. The underwear’s tatters were the only thing keeping his heavy balls in check, and barely doing that. 

The changes were slowing now, leaving him gasping on the floor. He saw the spoon there on the floor and without thinking he began to lick off the spilled contents from the surrounding area. He was still so hungry. No! This wasn’t him. He reared backwards in disgust at what he was doing. This wasn't right. He felt so ashamed. None of this was right. Tears sprung from his eyes and traveled the now long path towards his nose. His torn shirt hung from his back, still clinging to his thin biceps. 

“Oh no….what did….oh no…oh no..” he began to sob as he sank his head to the floor, unable to stop his long tongue from licking his nearby food-goop covered fingers. 

“Nooooooohhhh.” Stan moaned, cleaning what little morsels were left on his digits. “I dont want to...please Emily...Please take them away….” he weeped, he could barely see past the tears as his now large torso convulsed in his sobs.

“Please finish your food allotment before the designated time. This has been a message from Inglestoff, bringing your imagination to life!” a cheery recorded voice crackled over their home speaker. 

Emily grabbed an empty container that had housed nutrition cubes and threw it towards the lone speaker at the end of the room. The plastic box clattered as it banged into their neatly organized but sparse shelves, rattling the few glass jars they had collected. The box missed the speaker by at least six feet. She turned back to Stan.

“Stan...are you still...you?” Emily whispered, her voice almost inaudible as Stan’s pointed ears instinctively pivoted towards her. 

“Please Emilieeee, I can't...it's changing me…I don’t want to.. I don’t want to.” Stan blubbered, not processing her question despite his acute hearing. Almost as to illustrate his point his fingers began to swell as his back undulated and broadened slightly under the torn sweat-stained shirt. 

“Stan...Stan...please...I know it hurts…” Emily kneeled down to meet him, her hand floated over his distended shoulder to comfort him before shrinking away. 

“You have to Stan, the contract, the contract said...this will all be for nothing...you know what they will do to Kevin, Lily, Pete...Cora and... oh god Stan…” Emily held her face in her hands as the stress of watching her husband’s horrific transformation caught up with her all at once. Tears streamed through her fingers as she cried with big shuddering sobs. 

“Cccc...canister.” Stan wheezed out. It was taking all his will power to fight back the jagged pain and sinking dread that filled his every nerve. His fingers hurt, there were too big for his hands now as they curled into fists. The over-taxed skin of his hands turned white from the effort. He felt like he was going to pass out or cum at any moment. His tool was hard as steel as it bobbed with fresh pulsing waves of hot blood. 

Emily didn’t understand as her own thin body shook from the tears. “What?” she asked, Stan’s words sounded garbled against the white noise that filled her head. 

Through dry lips, and a tongue several times too large for his mouth Stan forced himself to say it again. Everything hurt, everything but his jutting, still throbbing tool. Another dribble of viscous precum pushed its way out from the engorged head of his cock and fell wetly to the floor leaving a thin wisp of connective liquid to his puffy urethra. He had to get the words out.

“Canister...please,” he whispered, forcing his unfamiliarly long jaw to make the words as his still bunched hands grated themselves on the floor.

Silently, without a word, Emily got up, uneasy on her own thin legs. Her face was a blur of sadness and regret marred by something approaching grief.

Slowly, gingerly, she set the metal canister in front of him. It was at least half-full still. She took a step back, and another. As Stan's enlarged hands reached for it and then shrunk back, visibly shaking. Stanley couldn’t spare a moment to thank or admonish her as he dragged the canister towards himself and tipped it sideways. He took a deep breath of the odor, he wanted to eat it so badly, he could barely control himself. He looked up at her for a brief moment. Their eyes connected, saying everything that they needed to say to one another. They both knew what this meant as Stan sunk his extended face into the brown goo and began to eat.


	3. Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stan has to cope with his accelerating changes, maybe his wife can help him through the changes, or does he have to face them alone?

Chapter 3

\--------------

“No murr...noaurr...” Stan slurred between breaths as his thick tongue slurped the bottom of the canister greedily. He couldn't stop himself from trying to get every morsel still clinging to the inner rim. His stomach churned, he felt so full but at the same time still unsated. Every movement made his muscles burn. It felt like his body was converting the food to energy as fast as he could eat it, but not providing any relief for the aching burn that permeated his ever pore. Small tears still coalesced at the corners of his eyes, he didn’t want Emily to see him like this.

“Ahhhhhuuu!!!” A low moan issued from deep in his chest as his shoulder blades broadened Despite his craving he was forced to stop licking the canister as the expanding bones pushed into the hump of developing muscles that ran down his neck before tapering to the small of his back. His biceps bulged as the bones in his upper-arms grew wider and thicker, ripping the sleeves of his ruined shirt that still draped over him. Recovering briefly, he huffed a few deep breaths before he grabbed the canister and raised it skyward. His body reared backwards onto his haunches as he re-submerged his long face into the empty canister to try to extract any remaining flavor. The taste had transformed into something indescribable as it hit his tongue. The brown goo was sweet, salty, spicy, savory, and something else he has never experienced before all at once.

“Please Stan, that's enough,” Emily begged. She had retreated to the door near the pallet of canisters the company had dropped off. She used them as a precarious cover in their cramped home. She watched her husband’s myriad changes progress in a state of abject horror. She had heard about what it entailed, but had never gathered the bravery to look up a video of it happening. If she had maybe she would have fought Stan harder on taking the job. 

She had to look away several times as it looked like Stan’s body may rupture from the undulations and sickening cracking occurring under his skin. His muscles were bunching and swelling all over his body, pushing at his pale skin. Stan threw the now thoroughly cleaned can down where it bounced and clattered until it came to rest against the far wall. Tthe changes seemingly stopped along with his supply of the goo. She wasn't sure if he threw the canister in disgust or anger, but it scared her just the same. She looked away, what he was becoming was too painful. 

“Emileeee... “ Stan cried out as he staggered to his feet. “I hh...hnnnn...more…” he slurred as he took a step towards her. His tongue lolling out of his face as his broadened teeth were unable to hold it back. Stan was breathing heavily like he had just run up the hillside from The Narrows, the neighborhood that lived deep in the shadow of their already destitute hillside. His enlarged nostrils were flaring with each heavy breath like a wild animal. She summoned the courage to look up, her eyes reconnecting with his. He had a hungriness in them, a wildness. It scared her. 

Emily’s eyes widened as Stan rose and she took in his upright form. He had grown at least a foot taller and now stood almost six and a half feet tall. His oversized head was precariously balanced on a long muscled neck. The remains of his shirt was draped over his broadened shoulders like a ragged cape. The garment’s front and arms ripped open in ragged tears, exposing the rising and falling expanse of his enlarged chest and thickened biceps. His underwear, tucked under the base of his jutting nine-inch shaft still held on somehow, its contours bulged obscenely between his legs. 

“Oh god Stan, don’t,” she cried as she shrunk behind the stack of food canisters. Her husband’s disproportionate frame lurched towards her, his eyes looked almost feral. 

“Puhhh...please…. hhurrr...hurts...I need...” Stan took another step towards her, his arms wrapped around his sides like he was trying to prevent himself from bursting. His face was scrunched together in what she could assume by context was distress. His visage was now formed of hard to read lines given his face’s increasingly inhuman proportions. With that step the underwears’ worn elastic could no longer manage the strain of holding his testicles aloft and the undergarment fell from his hips. Now unrestrained, his swollen sac bounced free against his thighs. His testes, now each the size of large lemons, jockeyed with each other to find room between his legs. The wrinkled curly-hair covered skin of his sac had smoothed substantially and now held his testes high near the base of his still turgid shaft. 

“Therhh...they...huurr...burnnnn….hhuuuhhh!!!” Stan moaned as Emily realized he was fighting to not touch himself. His teeth clacked together as his arms untangled themselves and his hands clutched at his pubic region’s curly black hairs, inching towards the base of his angry red shaft.

Stan was too preoccupied to notice the briefs had caught his knees on its way towards the floor. The underwear prevented him from taking another step without tearing the garment in half. 

Emily’s eyes were embarrassingly focused on his visibly throbbing cock and the huge virile eggs that sat below it. She was only shaken from Stan’s new virility by Stan’s staggered cadence due to the fallen briefs. Briefs which brought her attention to Stan’s lower legs and shoes. His shoes were visibly bulging. Something inside was pressing hard at the worn black fabric of the standard company-issue boots that Stan had worn since before they had married. Stan’s hands bunched into fists as he tried to visibly restrain himself. The muscles in his neck were straining, turning his skin an angry red.

“Emileee...p...please…” tears streamed down Stan’s face as he staggered forward, the underwear tearing between his calves causing him to lurch forward towards her and the food store. His erection looked somehow even larger as it pushed out a wet, glistening bead of precum from its over-full tip.

Emily was in a panic now as she looked over the cans, if she could give him one maybe he would stop hurting, stop coming towards her. She thought she could deal with this but it was too much. She turned the first can over and read the label in a flurry. “STAGE 2 - 36KCAL”, “STAGE 5 - 105KCAL”, she turned over more and more canisters but they were all wrong. Despite her best efforts she couldn't find another solitary canister for stage one. She couldn’t even remember what she had read about the stages now in her alarm. What she did remember was the giant and universal sign for death, a skull with two bones behind it, printed prominently at the bottom of the instructional pages about not exceeding consumption.

Stan was leaning against the stack of canisters now. His footing was too unsure and he practically crashed himself into the tins, threatening to topple the whole stack onto Emily. He had never felt so out of control of his actions. His gut roiled, accompanied by the burning in his entire body, made him feel like he may explode if he ate any more or went through any more changes. But the lingering taste on his tongue was driving him mad, even now his tongue wiggled at the gaps between his foreignly large teeth for any last morsels. It wasn’t just the hunger, the only feeling that could overwhelm it was a deep burning ache that had developed in his loins. He needed to relieve the pressure. His eyes dilated as his nostrils snorted. He needed it. He needed… 

“HUUUGHHHH!!” He let out a short almost animalistic bellow as he began humping the stack, his hips moving in a desperate rhythm. His cock pushed open spaces between the tightly interlocked cans as he thrust his nine-inch manhood in and out of the pallet. He felt his heavy balls smacking the cold metal, sending shivers through his heaving body as the whole stack rocked precariously held together by the mesh of locked-together lids and the weight of the contents. 

“stan…” Emily’s cries sounded distant, like she was shouting at him from a great distance and through a fog. “Stan….STAN!” Her voice came into focus as he felt a stinging pain on the side of his face. He staggered backwards at the shock, his cock bounced free of the metal containers. Emily held her thin wrist and winced in pain.

“Stan please, this isn’t you…” Her voice finally reached him as it filled his sensitive scooped ears. 

“Wha...huh….” Stan shook himself from the stupor like he was waking up from a nightmare. His body reeled another few steps back as he disengaged from the stack of heavy goo-filled cans. 

“Stan! Please! You have to stop. There is no more….There is no more!” she cried as she began to pound on his wide chest. Her blows landed weakly as she sobbed. Her pummeling soon transitioned into her clutching at his breast, scraping his already thinned skin with her worn nails, leaving small streaks of blood across his flat pecs. The pain was sharp enough that it helped cut through the dullness Stan had felt in his head not moments before. Stan looked down at his sobbing wife, his own eyes watery with tears. This was all for her and the kids. If he hurt them. If he lost control. It would be for nothing, less than nothing. What had he done? He could barely remember the last few minutes, just the overwhelming sensations that had flooded him. He knew it wasn’t enough, it would never be enough. He had never provided for them like he had wanted to. He was worse than a failure, this was his once chance to make it up to them and he had already screwed it up somehow. Stan did all he could do in that moment.

“What….” Emily protested, trying to fight him off as Stan’s arms suddenly wrapped around her and held her. Her struggle stopped as soon as she realized he was himself again. 

“Oh god Emily, I’m soth sorry…” Stan cried as he tried to kiss the top of her head. But his long face missed and wound up nuzzling her like the beast he was becoming. 

“S..Stan?” Emily looked up at him, her eyes full of more despair than he had ever seen even in their darkest moments. 

“I doth know what to say....” Stan turned his head away, unable to meet her eyes. 

“It’s ok… It’s ok.. You would never hurt me…” Emily said as she reached out her delicate hand to the side of his face. His skin felt clammy and was filled with unfamiliar musculature that she did her best to ignore as she directed it back towards her. 

“No… I did...I can’t remember, but it was….it was so much…” He had never shed so many tears in one day. His eyes were red and bloodshot and his face felt almost sunburned it was so flush. “I need to stophh...I need to stopph,” he sobbed. “It hurts...I don’t want to be a monhshter!”

“I know...I know...” She tried to comfort him. “You can’t stop, they won’t let you stop...I should have never let you take those stupid pills,” Emily cried, her face buried against his chest. 

“It wasth my decision...you couldn’t have known…” he trailed off. His enunciation was growing more precise as he got better at moving his face’s new proportions. As his faculties returned he could feel his still rigid erection pressing itself upward as it was compressed between them. He felt a pulse ripple down his cock from the stimulation as it released a thick drop of precum onto Emily’s dress. His balls twitched between his legs before settling again. He felt so ashamed, she must have noticed. 

His heart was beating fast in his chest, it felt like it was vibrating his whole body with every powerful pump. He closed his eyes to try to will his erection down, but his mind was still hazy. Every time he got a mental image of something unsexy it washed away just as quickly. It was no use. Despite everything, if Emily felt the length of his member pressing into her she gave him no indication.

“No...No this isn’t just you, it's us. It’s both of us. We will get through this. For them, we have to Stan. We have to.” Emily said with no small amount of determination in her voice. Her fear pushed aside as she pronounced “I won’t let them take our babies, I won't.”

“I won’t let that happen, not ever.” he agreed emphatically, a strength he didn’t know he still could summon given everything that happened that day, filled his voice.

“I know….” Emily paused. “You’re a good dad. And a good man.” Emily said as her arms reached around Stan as she tried to return his hug. His torso felt strange and too large in her embrace, but she didn’t let that deter her. She fought her instinct to shrink back from the disproportionate monster her husband had become. Her hands were unable to connect behind him due to the size of his torso. He was always thin, like her, since they had met so many years ago. But now...

Stan couldn’t help but sob ugly tears, his whole body shook in her embrace. He felt wrong, wrong inside and out. The muscles in his neck felt stiff and his jaw ached. His chest felt several sizes too big for his body. He couldn't help but shudder as he felt another drop of precum leak down the length of his angry throbbing malehood.

“Come on, let's get you cleaned up before the kids get home.” She put her hands on his long face. She was less afraid now, she told herself she couldn’t be afraid of her loving husband, no matter his form.

“Oh god...the kids...Em...what will we... What will they think?” Stan’s composure was breaking down again.

Emily sighed as she broke their hug, “We’ll figure something out. Don’t worry, we will cross that bridge when we get there.” She took his hand firmly in hers. His wife’s fingers felt so much smaller now, he hadn’t realized how thick his fingers had become. Stan nodded despite the muscles in his neck tensing hard with every movement. It wasn’t going to be so easy to show their kids what had happened, what was still happening to him. They would have to deal with it, and soon.

“Come on, one step at a time...that's it, one foot in front of the other” Emily led him down the hallway towards their small bathroom. His arm slung over her narrow shoulders as she guided him firmly and steadily. His overworked muscles were cooling down as they made it deeper into the narrow hall. It felt like all his strength had turned to jelly. Stan felt suddenly uneasy and off balance. His head felt too high, he was too high up! 

“I dont feel so good...” he gasped as the sudden vertigo was accompanied by his ankle twisted sideways as he took a bad step forward. The jolt sent his large body off balance as he flailed for a handhold. To his surprise Emily’s small frame was there to catch him as she braced him against the wall with her whole body, her legs locked against the wall for support. Her body shook from the effort as she managed to get him back upright again.

“Are you..are you ok?” Stan stuttered, as he worked as quickly as he could to relieve the pressure of his body on hers. He had never felt so out of sorts. His body's new reality was catching up to him. Nothing felt right.

“It’s ok,” Emily huffed, stopping for a moment to catch her breath before rejoining him and accompanying him past the kids’ rooms as they arrived at the bathroom adjacent to their shared bedroom. Stan almost had to duck as he entered, the door jam grazing the top of his trimmed dark brown hair. In the far corner was the upright shower stall, its small brown tiles were meticulously clean, Emily insisted on it. The rest of their house could be in shambles but Emily wouldn’t allow a hair out of place hair in their meager, but gleaming bathroom. 

Their chore assignment calendar dangled on the wall just outside the shower. It was written on an old souvenir booklet they had scavenged from a fresh heap of trash that easily summited and overflowed over the northwest wall that enclosed their neighborhood. It was made of real wood paper, stained, wrinkled and creased, but pages and pages of it. Instead of selling it for food cubes Emily had mounted it proudly on the wall and let the kids color in and doodle on it. Even on the worst days when their stomachs groaned and their power credits were revoked that small stack of wrinkled papers hanging from the wall made him feel like there were better days ahead. 

He went to enter the the shower before Emily stopped him with a firm tug.

“No, no, no, come on, we have to get this off you first,” Emily grabbed the edges of the torn shirt that still clung to his back. Stan spread his arms in an attempt to help her out despite his ongoing disorientation as she yanked at it. With a soft *shrrippp* the tight band still clinging to his neck tore and the shredded garment peeled off of him, only clinging by the stiction of the sweat that had pushed out of his back during his changes. Emily held the shirt, now no more than a rag, aloft as she inspected the wet soiled garment. With a heavy sigh she folded it and set it aside on the small table near the sink. Fabric was too valuable to waste, even in this state. 

“Can I go in now?” Stan asked, anxious for this day to be over.

“Shoes please….” Emily tapered off realizing what she was asking. The distended toes of the boots worried her as to what she would see beneath. 

“Oh right…” Stan felt embarrassed as he steadied himself against the wall and unlaced his right boot by holding his leg aloft. He only realized halfway into working his boot off that his substantial bobbing cock and swinging balls were practically being shoved in his wife’s face. 

“Oh god, honey I’m sorry, I can’t help it…”

Emily looked away, her face flushed like she was a hormonal teenager. “Just...just take off your shoes and get in already.”

Stan nodded as he hurriedly pulled at his stubborn boot. He wore no socks, the boot hadn’t grown since he was young and his foot had. He only noticed the bunching near his toes as he struggled to pull the boot off his heel. 

“What...oh no...oh no….” he groaned as he slowly peeled the boot off. A wave of hot stinky air hit his face, trapped by the footwear’s fabric. His eyes widened as he saw his foot for the first time that day. His toes, much like his fingers had grown substantially, but there was almost something akin to a thick webbing of skin connecting them at their base. The joints of his toes were distended, several sizes too big for his foot size. He tried to wiggle and curl his toes but they felt almost locked into place.

“Oh Stan...Are they bad? How bad are they?” Emily asked, still looking down and away, the flushness from seeing her husband so exposed and virile gave her the perfect excuse to avoid whatever horror was imparted on Stan’s feet.

“N..not that bad…” he lied as he made quick work of the other boot and got into the shower before she could see. 

“Good, that's good.” She focused on the folded torn shirt until she heard the shower’s door latch shut. 

Stan sighed in relief as he closed the semi-opaque glass shower door. If he could spare Emily having to see his deformed feet he would do it. This was as hard, maybe even harder on her that it was on him. He had the benefit of not having to look at himself change...that much. 

“I’m going to get things cleaned up out here, let me know if...if you need anything,” Emily said as she gathered the shirt and boots in her arms. 

“Thank you Em, I don’t know what I would do without you,” Stan said, his voice choking slightly. 

“I know, honey, I know,” she commiserated as she looked at his inhuman silhouette through the illuminated glass.

Stan sighed as he pressed the water dispersion button, ready for the hot water to wash away the day’s troubles. Nothing happened.

“WATER ALLOTMENT EXCEEDED FFFFFFOR MONTH...PLEASE DDDDEPOSIT CREDITS TO CONTINUE” the shower’s speaker blared as it skipped and electronically slurred over its own words. 

“Requesting water loan for five minutes at low flow, any available interest rate,” he said as he pressed his hand to the water dispersion button. 

“REQUESTER NOT RECOGNIZED. PL..PLEASE TRY AGAIN.” the computer practically shouted from its tinny speaker perched above the shower.

“TRY..AG....TRY...TRY AGAIN.” The computer skipped as Stan mashed his hand into the reader over and over.

Emily sighed as she put her hand against the light switch. “Requesting water loan, twenty minutes, high flow, any available interest rate.” 

“LOAN APPROVED. WOULD YOU LIKE DETAILS?” The house chimed. 

“No.” Emily turned to leave.

“Twenty minutes?!” Stan cried out from the shower, “It’s too much, we can’t afford that!”

“Enjoy it honey, I will see you in a bit,” Emily smiled sadly as she closed the door behind her and heard the water begin to run.

The water began to run despite his objection. He needed it too much to argue with her. He hadn’t felt full power on their shower in years, maybe ever. The water cascaded out of the shower-head like he had never experienced before, he thought he may drown in the volume. The hot droplets crashed into his sensitive skin, he felt like he may pass out. It felt so good against his aching body. 

“Oh god…” he moaned as he wiped his hands over his distended chest, freeing it of caked-on sweat and old dirt. As the hot water cascaded over him he felt the fatigue washing away with the grime. He almost didn’t notice the persistent and growing throbbing in his still erect nine-inch manhood as it bounced needfully in the spray. The stimulation of the hot water on his length was sending fresh hot blood to bolster the already overstocked reserves that flowed through his tool.

“Gah! Why wont you go down!” he cried out to himself, the throbbing was growing worse and more insistent. He gripped his length in his hands. He had to take care of this. Slowly, he began to rub himself. His large fingers felt like a stranger’s as they wrapped tightly around his tool. His cock felt foreign as well, it was so big, his old six-inch penis was nothing exceptional but the long shaft he now sported felt like it was at a whole different level of sensitivity and weight. Despite its length it wasn't noticeably thicker than it had been before his changes, just longer. He had never much cared about his size but he had to admit to himself despite all the other pain, having a dick this big wasn’t that bad. 

As he took it in he could feel its veins pushing into his hand. His fingers rubbed up and down its length, taking in the contours of his newly extended flesh. His fingers pulled and tugged at his foreskin, sending roiling jolts of pleasure through his body. His erect tool was no less sensitive despite its length. Without thinking his hips began to thrust in unison with his gentle exploratory strokes. His large balls swayed and slapped his thighs as he ground harder and heard against his hands. His heart was beating faster and faster, filling his ears with the sound of his excitement as he began to earnestly beat off in the best shower he had ever had.

His body was building up to some unknown crescendo. The triangle of muscles now connecting to his neck from his shoulders tensed. His toes tried to curl but were unable to as his body shook. It felt he was finally going to be able to relieve a deep pressure in his loins and the pounding in his head that had been building since the pills took effect that morning. As he took in his long cock, splashed by water, it was one of the most erotic things he had ever seen. He couldn't hold it back any longer. With a hard jerk his cock tensed in his grip and he finally came.

“Ahhhh!! AHHH!!!!” he let out a stifled moan as a small thick rope of cum spurted several inches from the tip of his engorged member before being joined by two much smaller spurts of thick white cum that dribbled over his hands from his engorged urethra. The world spun around him as he felt a sudden lightheadedness. He craned his long head forward against the still cold tile, using it for support as he huffed and tried to stabilize himself. The water was doing its best to clear away the globs of cum that covered his hands. Stan couldn’t help but grit his teeth. His cock jutted between his legs. It felt like it was even more erect than before, the flesh was still hard as a rock in his sticky digits. Something wasn’t right. He hardly felt satiated at all.

He slowly began rubbing his length again, lubricated by his own jism his hands worked his shaft. His cadence speeding up to a furious rhythm as he tried to relieve the still present pulsing need that permeated his gut. His hips once again joined his undulations. His balls slapped the bottom of his hands as he jacked off with a renewed furious intention. He knew that he had to get it down. There was a creeping desperation in his masturbation but it was pushed down as every time the top of his swaying orbs connected with his palms a shock of eclectic pleasure pulsed through his length. The low-level rapture that shot through his cock and down into his testicles was interrupting his body’s heaving cadence as he kneaded the still concrete-like shaft. 

Stan hardly noticed that he was breathing exceptionally hard. He snorted a few times through his flared nostrils as he pushed all nine turgid inches of his cock through his hands over and over. The swinging of his balls became more and more pronounced as he relished in the pleasure they provided as they hit his hands. His muscles tensed throughout his body, as his newly swollen ass cheeks clenched behind him. His balls pulled up in their sac as he felt them pulse hard, the skin around them growing tight. 

“hhhnHUUUAHHHHRR!!!” His long head craned towards the ceiling as he tried and failed to stifle a loud cry of pleasure. His arms and chest muscles convulsed at the overwhelming shock of pleasure as he came. His hands were forced to disengage from his madly bobbing penis and brace himself against the wall as the orgasm washed over him. His male-hood, freed of his grip tensed somehow impossibly harder in the steamy air as it released a powerful ribbon of cum as it jumped upwards in the throws of ejaculation. His legs felt weak. He could feel his cock’s muscles transporting the scalding hot jism through his shaft like madly throbbing hose. The cum that spurted through his gaping urethra was noticeably more voluminous. The silky stream cleared almost a whole foot as it just missed the wall and splattered wetly on the shower floor. It was joined by another powerful rope almost as far reaching as the first, and another. Each rope was accompanied by his hips thrusting forward as if to launch the jism from his body. His cock couldn't keep it up as it weakly gurgled out a couple more globs of sticky jism from the head of his overtaxed cock. Stan moaned as the pleasure seemed to go on and on. The warmth radiating from his loins was overwhelming as the afterglow saturated him.

But the ache in his cock was still there and had spread deep into his swollen balls. His shaft not showing any signs of softening as it dipped slightly downward, no longer held aloft by his tensing pelvis.

“Why...won’t you….” he cried out as soon as he caught his breath. As if in response he felt a powerful pulse ripple up and down his shaft, like his own hands madly masturbating had provided moments before. 

“Ahhhh!!! Whats...happening….” Stan moaned through gritted teeth. His head forced into the wall once more as he felt another powerful pulse. His body’s leaning weight was supported by his long face as his hands gripped the base of his tool. 

“No...please...please don’t,” he whined as he squeezed the base of his shaft in a futile attempt to stop the pulses. Defying his plying grip the hot flesh of his phallus began to push against his fingers. The pleasure almost knocked the air out of his lungs as he choked on the water cascading over his face. The long granite-like muscles of his cock were stretching under the thin overtaxed skin of his tool, pushing his fingers apart. His glans puckered and swelled like a blooming flower as it broadened. His growing urethra burrowed up his shaft, parting his powerful muscles and drew the skin around his cock even tighter. The opening for his urinary tract flared open like the mouth of a fish gasping for air as it widened, evicting a few drops of leftover cum from his shuddering length. Veins pulsed and thickened up and down his shaft feeding his penis scalding hot blood with every throb of his rapidly beating heart. The underside of his dick bloated with muscle as its girth grew to the thickness of a liquid nutrient bottle, almost seven inches in circumference.

“Ahhh!! Huahhh!! Huhhhh!!!” he moaned as he pulled the heaving slab of meat upwards towards his stomach. The hot water splashing all over his body was only making the pleasure more unbearable as it thrummed through every nerve. Pre-cum began to leak in a small trickle out of his penis’s head. The water was fighting his lubrication’s ability to coat his hand as it did its best to wash away the slick clear liquid now dripping from his hefted still growing male-hood. The pleasure was overwhelming, the ache in his loins unbearable as he rubbed himself in a frenzy. His right hand clutched his swinging balls as his left worked his shaft causing his cock to elicit a gurgle of fresh pre-cum. Everything felt so heavy, so sensitive, Stan felt like he was losing his mind as his whole body worked to push his package into the flurry that was his hands. His balls were swelling between his legs as the skin, even loosened by the heat of the shower, began to tighten around them. 

His face jerked to the side, the pleasure was threatening to overwhelm him completely. He had to keep himself together, he promised Emily. He promised.... But the building pressure in his loins was too much. He couldn’t fight it. It was too strong. 

"Won't give in, I won't..hurrrrrrrr," he gasped, his teeth ground against each other as he felt a pulse of heat flow through his body from his loins. His leaking heavy tool jolted as it redirected his thoughts back to his sex. In that moment he wanted nothing more than to fuck, to fuck anything, anybody. Sink his needful length deep into... He felt something building in his breast, something animalistic that wanted to get out. He moaned as his cock's impossibly hard flesh extended another excruciatingly pleasurable inch in length out from his groin. The growth caused his pre-soaked ten-inch dick to slip out of his groping hands. His lubricant production had now overwhelmed the water's ability to wash it away. The throbbing mass bobbed needfully between his legs. His heavy balls twitched and drew upward. He couldn’t hold it back any longer as he reared his head towards the blinding white light that hung above the shower. His jism and pre-coated hands held his long face in an attempt to calm himself. He couldn't fight it, he couldn't.

“EmilLEEWHINNNEEYYY!!!” He screamed as the last handhold of his sanity was flooded by desire. His voice lowering an octave as his body was permeated with a feeling of unquenchable lust. His vision went white and his hearing collapsed into a buzzing white noise. His heavy balls clenched hard between his legs along with every worn muscle in his body. Stan began to cum again and again in powerful arcs that coated and oozed against the shower wall as the animal inside him, the one he had been fighting a losing battle with all day, was finally freed.


	4. Part 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stan starts to lose control of himself while he takes the most expensive shower of his life!

Chapter 4

\--------------

A scalding rope of cum ejaculated forcefully from Stan’s tool. Stan’s hands convulsed as they grasped the length of his heavy jutting shaft.

The growing beast inside him took more hold of him with every shock of pleasure, driving him to higher and higher heights of ecstasy and need. The lust, the desire, flooded his mind. It pushed away all concern for his changing body or how he had come to this point. His own deeply buried lurid fantasies bubbled to the surface as he breathed out visible steamy puffs of air from his nostrils. His vision shuddered and blurred to a single point as saliva dripped from his widened teeth before being washed away by the powerful shower’s spray. His heavy breathing had found a terrible lustful cadence. In this moment there was only fulfillment. The aches in his stretched muscles and groaning pain of his very bones was forgotten, washed away by the needful pulsing of his loins.

The orgasm wouldn’t end. The blows of pleasure could seemingly only grow in intensity and power. The force of it threatened to topple him into a shuddering pile on the shower floor, but somehow his new body held him aloft.

Before another rope-like string of cum could ejaculate from his cock his length tensed with fresh new blood. His rapidly beating heart, fueled by the need, was unwilling to let his dick soften. The sudden surge of blood blocking his next shuddering ejaculation. His penis’s weighty flesh wobbled with his hips, supported by its own muscular length as it struggled to heft itself upward, preparing for the next spasming outpour. His orgasm built and built as a small dribble of pearly-white cum managed to leak from his cock’s engorged head as it inflamed. The trickle was mere a precursor for what was to come. He could feel the pressure grow and grow to such an overwhelming degree that the power muscles of his cock could no longer contain it. His balls pressed against his thighs as they were dragged upward towards his groin. Small tears winced from the corners of his dilated unfocused-eyes as he reached his apex. 

“HUURR….GRAAAHHH!” he moaned as his long jaw clenched, his teeth ground against each other as his ears flattened backwards against the top of his head. His hands, still furiously jerking at his meat squeezed whatever part of his length they found themselves on. Stan’s ten-inch length was no longer able to be fully contained by his enlarged hands. He gripped his male-hood in an almost panic like he had almost lost the grip on the rung of a ladder from a great height.

His fingers strained to be able to fully grasp the circumference of his own girth as he madly squeezed the meat between his legs. His hips had long stopped swaying with his kneading digits and had taken up a staccato jerky rhythm of sudden powerful movements. With a final hard pulse his cock jumped upward, forcing his hands off of his tool as the muscles in his arms and shoulders convulsed. 

“HHHHURRRR!!!!” he groaned with a deep primitive rumble that vibrated in his chest. The fire of need filled his senses. The column of jism traveling up his red vein-covered length felt like raw uncooled magma. His blood roiled, his heart pounding in his pinned ears. The seed’s powerful pressure was enough to visibly bloat his angry cock’s concrete-hard muscle. The cum plowed its way up the base of his jutting manhood with a disregard for his cock’s size or strength as it breached the gaping slit of his urinary tract. 

“WHHHHINNEEYY!!!” he screamed again, this time the animalistic roar didn’t catch in his throat, it felt..natural. His balls heaved in their sac as they supplied his cock. The pressure was impossible to hold back any longer. He came hard.

The single column of cum shot upward against the tile, its distance far exceeding all other ejaculations he had produced. The jism impacted the small shower’s wall with enough force that it splashed back against Stan’s chest, covering his rapidly rising and falling torso with splatters of steaming-hot semen. 

Stan’s testicles throbbing expanse pressed into his overworked thighs as they swelled slightly despite the expenditure. The pressure of his scrotum against his legs was no relief, it only served to drive him onward. A deep ache driving him was still buried deep in their heaving, increasingly-heavy flesh. His orbs were seemingly inexhaustible despite having released so much of his seed. But as soon as the column of cum tapered off the swollen angry-red head of his cock, he was hard at work to elicit another. 

“HURRR...HURRR...RRHHHH….” Stan’s throat choked with water as he let out a series of increasingly guttural moans like he was a rutting animal. There was no time to slow down to bask in the ripples of pleasure from his last ejaculate. He needed more. He sped up the undulation of his hips with an almost instinctive desire to drive himself into his hands. He wanted so badly to bury himself deep into something. His lurid thoughts degraded into the simplest thrusting of his tool into something wet and tight. The beast ripped at his consciousness as his own seed’s pungent acidity wafted into his increasingly sensitive deepened nostrils. The swirling odor undeterred by the showers dogged persistence in breaking-down the growing globs of cum that pooled at his feet. 

His nuts hung heavy and low enough that they now slapped the wet tile behind him with every swing of his hips. The pendulous movement of his swollen testes returned them to the underside of his cock with every backwards thrust. His hands reasserted their grip on his out of control shaft, the nerves on his penis flared at the touch. He could barely hold himself, his flesh felt too sensitive. Shocks of pleasure shot up and down his thickened elongated spine. His increasingly rounded ass cheeks quivered and tensed compulsively. The muscles in his chest strained and heaved as his arms tensed.

“GARRHHURRHH...” he groaned. He still had more in his increasingly fattening balls, he needed to cum again... As he furiously tended to the column between his thighs Stan’s right leg stomped at the pleasure. He couldn't stop it, he didn't care to. The ecstasy that ripped through his body with every touch of the overworked column of flesh made his leg spasm and stomp under him. His curled almost-imobile toes slapped the deepening pool of jism and water at his feet, splashing the hot cum-filled water all over the shower walls. The waves depositing small swirling globs of his seed on the tile as they receded. His thick foot temporarily unblocked the small drain of his congealed cum. The water level hesitantly, slowly, shrunk back from his ankles.

He couldn’t stop. His right leg kicked faster and more powerfully the closer he got, threatening to unbalance him as he felt the pressure building to another crescendo. The splashing of water mixed with his deep groans and the thick wet slaps of his hands on his manhood. Every slap of his balls on the tile behind him sent a shock of pleasure through his loins. He groaned in need. His soaked body shuddered. The pressure only built. A small trickle of cum once again escaped the head of his engorged penis’s as it mixed with his pre. The mixture streamed down his protruding tool and washed over his tight clutching fingers. His heavy testes pulled upwards towards his crotch as the pressure of his cock surged inhumanly. The head of penis somehow inflamed further, its deep reds turning a splotchy purple as it was fed more scalding-hot blood by the thick pulsing veins along its length. It was too much. He couldn't breathe. The muscles in his neck tensed hard, pushing his head upward. He stumbled backwards as the orgasm forced his jaw to clench, spittle forced its way through his grinding teeth with every heavy breath. The back of his head hit the wet tile behind him, sending sparks of pain through his skull as his rigid ten-inch cock slapped his stomach. He began to cum again.

His mouth opened, but instead of a triumphant animalistic roar he could only let loose a low-pitched whine as the triangle of muscles in his neck thickened slightly. His aching head was pressed forward as his body braced against the shower wall. His hips thrust suddenly upward as a vicious rope of gleaming yellow-white cum parted the overworked tip of his dick. His hands joined each other as they held onto the base of his cock, as if trying to control the raging tool. Even in his rapturous bliss he could tell something was happening to him. The orgasm wasn't drowning the pulsing heat that radiated from between his legs, it was mixing with it, making it sharper. The base of his penis compressed briefly under his fingers, allowing the tips of his digits to touch ever so briefly. His cock’s flesh rebounded, surging thicker, spreading his digits even further than before. 

The thickening muscle rolled up the length of his sex like a wave, giving his still ejaculating column of semen a growing highway to his gaping exit. Veins bulged along his length and spread thin tendrils deep into his flesh as his cock grew heavier, more powerful in his orgasmic clutches. Stan’s eyes rolled in his head as the first column of seed tapered off just in time for the tip of his manhood to extend another aching half-inch outward. The force of his seed almost reached the underside of the shower-head before splashing back down and splatting wetly against the wall. It was soon joined by a second rope, even more powerful, its speed accelerated by the longer more powerful runway his newly thickened penis afforded it. The short whip-like rope of jism cleared the top of the shower, slapping the wall above the shower’s glass barrier before slowly rolling over itself downward back towards the shower’s tile upper edge.

Stan collapsed against the corner of the shower, his cock bobbed wildly as the light-headedness struck him even more powerfully. The shower was spinning even as small spurts of cum continued to travel through his inhumanly large cock. It was too overwhelming. He began to sink to the shower’s floor, unable to keep himself aloft. His balls were trapped by his downward plunge, dragged upwards into the underside of his swollen butt cheeks by the wet slippery tile as he slowly collapsed. Stan couldn't process what was happening as his long head rolled on his neck like he was drunk. He didn't know where he was or what he was doing, he felt so dizzy he was verging on nausea.

His now-empty balls became partially submerged in the slurry of cum and hot water as he splashed into the pool of churning water trapped by the clogged drain. Finally sitting on the shower bottom, his ass cheeks spread slightly at his increased weight as a final weak drool of jism made its way out of him. His heavy cock began to droop, the blood slowly draining from its weight as it drooled a few more small sticky wads of cum onto his partially submerged leg. The long muscle hurt from its inch and half of growth since he had entered the shower. Its circumference had increased enough that it had gained a heft that felt more pronounced as it sagged. His penis's overworked red flesh slowly began to recede back to a paler fleshy hue as his body shuddered. His urethra, agitated and chafed from the numerous ejaculations, still gaped open as his cock fell sideways. The column of still-hot flesh came to rest draped against his right thigh. He could feel its weight pressing on his leg like a creature nestling for warmth against his flesh.

Stan leaned his head back, nestled in the corner of the shower. His breathing was ragged and irregular as the growing feeling of sickness swirled in the pit of his stomach.

The hot water cascaded across him, slowly washing away the cum only to have it splatter and congeal against his skin once more in the submerged pool that he wallowed in.

“SH SH SHOWER ENDING IN FIVE SSSSECONDS! WOULD YOU LIKE TO EXTEND YOUR LOAN?” The house chimed, the stuttering assistant was further muffled by the copious steam that had invaded the rusted vent.

“Hurrrrr….” Stan moaned, his mouth felt so dry despite the deluge that had surrounded him for the last twenty minutes. He could barely see, he couldn't think, He felt so drained. His long wide tongue slowly worked its way past his flattened teeth and licked moisture that splattered off the tile from the still active shower-head. He didn't have the wherewithal or energy to turn his head to retrieve it directly from the spigot that rained on him from above.

“SHOW WW ER ENDING NOW. LOAN TTTERMS AVAILABLE ON REQUEST.”

Stan laid there in the pool of cum-filled water until the nausea slowly transitioned into a terrible thrumming headache in his temple. The shower turned off. Besides the slow drip from the shower-head above and the slow splashing waves of the swamp he now occupied he was left in silence.

“Wha…” Stan slurred, his senses beginning to return with the pain in his skull. His vision was coming back, but everything looked too sharp. It was all painfully sharp to look at. He winced as he tried over and over to open his eyes and focus on where he was. His body felt...wrong. Like he had broken every bone. He struggled to get up, his hands finding no purchase on the cum and water-slicked walls. His feet were no help as his toes slid uselessly against the tile, unable to bend more than a few degrees to accentuate his grip. He flopped in the water like a fish newly pulled out of a hatchery. Small tsunamis formed where his body left and then re-entered the pool as he failed to right himself. After several tries he struggled to his knees and hoisted himself upward. 

Stan was breathing heavily from the exertion. His vision was returning to him, the edges of the world dulling to levels that he could stand to meet his eyes. As the scene before him came into focus he wished it hadn’t. His face fell as he took stock of the state of the shower and then of himself. 

“Oh...oh no….” he gasped. Thick wads of congealed cum dotted his lower body. He could feel them pulling at the short wispy hairs on his legs. He couldn’t ignore the weight hanging on his groin. His limp cock hung in front of him, just over the slight bump of his flat belly. He tried not to look, but it was hard to ignore. it was monstrously thick and almost twice the length of his normal human size. He almost cried at the thought “normal human” as he stood there among a small ocean made of his jism and the most expensive shower he had ever been had. 

His head felt like it had been run through with a sonic jackhammer. He could barely remember the last twenty minutes, it was all a blur of heaving flesh and pleasure… Stan shook his head to clear his thoughts. 

"What did I do..." he whimpered.

He couldn't lose himself like that again. It scared him that he had lost time, so much time. As he shifted he was reminded of how much water had accumulated at his now pruned-feet. He reached down to try to unclog the drain, diverting his eyes from his new pronounced assets. He didn't know why, but it felt like if he acknowledged them it would make it all real. 

With a disgusted wince he felt for the obscured drain with his fingers. He knew he had found it when he pulled up a wad of cum at least as large as a baseball that they sometimes found in the trash heaps nearby. The water squelched happily into the cleared drain as he removed it. The squishy malformed thing looked like a life-form all its own, the congealed cum forming contours and bumps that looked like an organic living thing. Stan held it hesitantly in his hand, the weight of it made him want to sob. That much had come out of him. As he looked around the shower and the rapidly draining floor he realized it was probably not even half of what had come out of him. 

“Oh gods...what am I doing....” he cried as he braced himself against the opaque glass door of the shower. He cradled his face with his free arm. The heavy wad of jism still in his hand. He stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, hardly moving. He finally took a deep breath and unlatched the door. He knew why he was doing this. There was no other way. Gingerly Stan got out of the still cum-splattered shower and stepped into the plastic tub that they used to collect drinkable water when they were able to afford high quality water. Out of force of habit he stepped in, but there was no way in any hell Stan was going to let his family drink anything that had come out of this shower, no matter how many times they filtered it. 

With a grim determination he opened the trash receptacle that lined the wall. The heat and sound of scraping of metal against metal echoed through the deep chute. He dumped in the cum-ball that had congealed onto his fingers and for good measure dumped the water in the basin behind it. He slammed the hatch shut, leaving some residue of his semen on the handle. 

“Oh great..gahhh!” He tried to rub it off but it only made it worse. Despite being in the shower for so long he felt dirtier than he was when he went in. He tried to rub the cum off his skin with the small stained towel he and Emily shared. It was no good. He tried to wrap it around his waist but the towel could no longer reach comfortably around his hips. He sucked in his stomach to try to make it work, and with a couple inches of overlap it barely did. Before he could let out his breath he realized that the tightness only accentuated his new assets enough that he didn't want the kids to accidentally see how large he had gotten. He let out his breath as the towel sloughed off of him onto the floor, but not before dragging along his limp length which caused him to whimper as a small spark of pleasure lit and was extinguished in his loins.

Stan gathered the towel and pushed it against his crotch like a loin-cloth as he cracked open the door to the bathroom. Everything felt wrong, his movements felt like he was piloting a puppet in the shape of himself. His increasingly useless feet slipped on the slick floor as he made his way to the door.

“Emily? Are you out there?” he almost whispered to try to get her attention. He didnt know if the kids had come home yet.

“I’m...I’m here Stan.” Emily was seated against the hallway wall, her legs pulled up to her chest. Her face looked up at him with red teary eyes. 

“Em...I…..” Stan didn't know what to say. He knew she had heard everything. And by the looks of it she was waiting for him to get out. The walls of their home were not so well insulated to muffle even their quiet infrequent love-making. Stan had flashes of the animalistic roars he had let loose and the huffing snorting noises as his cock…its thickness between his legs.... Stan shook his head as the very memory of his animalistic nature threatened to take him over an edge he couldn't quite comprehend.

“It’s ok, it’s ok…” Emily repeated, Stan could tell she didn't believe it herself. 

“Could you...I need some clothes and something to...wash this out…” Stan presented his cum-splattered arm through the crack in the door, unwilling to reveal himself fully to her just yet.

Emily nodded as she got up off the floor. She wiped and blinked her red eyes. She stumbled for a moment as her legs had fallen asleep. She turned to go down the hallway before turning back to the bathroom.

“Stan...”

“Em wait...”

“I need to see you…” she said, her voice cracking into an almost sob. “Come out here...I want to see you.”

“I don't think..”

“COME OUT HERE!” Emily demanded, her voice fully breaking. 

Stan knew when he had better listen to his wife without argument and this was one of those times. Slowly he opened the door and stepped out into the hallway, his body still dripping lightly of water. 

Emily was speechless as she covered her mouth in shock. Stan tried to stand straight for her but no matter how upright he was under her piercing sad eyes he felt like he was going to melt into the floor. It didn't matter how much his body hurt or felt wrong, he just wanted to make it right for her. 

“Oh god Stan...what are they doing to you…” she moaned as she finally caught her breath.

“You know what…” Stan looked down at the floor, unable to meet her gaze. His own face felt hot and tears were welling in his eyes. Before he could surface the courage to respond he felt her slight hands on his waist. His body froze. He was no stranger to his wife's touch, but in this new monstrous form it felt...different. He didn't want her to be hurt by his changes, they had both agreed. Agreed over and over, but now that it was happening it felt like it was all too much.

“Does...does it hurt?” Emily choked out.

“No...well...not too much” Stan tried to answer as calmly as he could under the circumstances as Emily’s hand traced its way across his stomach. He still held the towel against his crotch, hiding his manhood from her as best he could.

“Your beautiful face, its…” Emily couldn't finish as she looked up at him. Her hand reaching to touch his distended cheek before recoiling. Stan knew that his long head had grown since he entered the bathroom, but without measuring he couldn't know how much, But now seeing Emily’s reaction he knew it wasn't nothing. 

“And...this thing…” Emily said as she wrapped her hands around his fingers and pulled them away from the loincloth. The towel dropped to the floor as Emily gasped.

“I….” Emily was at a loss for words as she stared, almost mesmerized by the rise of his tool.

“I can...understand why you would need...to…” Emily started, her hand drifting mere inches from its long pale expanse. 

“Is it ok to...touch it?” She asked, her voice almost a whisper. Stan leapt backwards a step at the request. He had never really thought about how he would be intimate with Emily after the changes. But this wasn't even after, this was during, as poorly prepared as they were for the future he felt even less prepared for the present. He wasn't sure if it was even allowed by the company for her to handle his... 

Despite his better judgement and everything his experience in the shower had told him about what he was becoming Stan nodded his head. He grunted as he looked away, still trying to not look at what now occupied the space between his legs.

Emily’s touch was inquisitive and light as she daintily ran her hand down his length, from his pubic hairs to the foreskin-wrapped tip. She measured his flaccid girth with her hands. Her fingers were only able to span its circumference when she used both hands together.

“Do you know how big you are going to get?” She asked as she gingerly cupped his balls and hefted them just enough to measure their size in her hands. Stan peeked at what she was doing and saw that Emily's face was a mix of concern and amazement at their weight.

“I dont...I dont think they tell you...Em...I think you had better stop...I dont know how to…” Stan blushed as he felt blood began trickling back into his cock as it jumped slightly in Emily's careful grip.

Emily quickly disengaged as Stan stifled a small moan of pleasure, a single pea-sized drop of clear pre-cum forming on the tip of his downward facing urethra. 

“I dont know how to stop...it feels...it feels...I..” Stan huffed as he tried to control himself. The bead of pre-cum broke at the admission and formed a long glistening string from the tip of his cock to towards the floor. He could already feel his large kiwi-sized balls tightening. He didn't know if he had anything left in their reserves but he didn't want to find out like this. He braced his hands strategically on the walls of the hallway, as far from his crotch as he could get them. 

“Oh god Stan…” Emily gasped as the pre-cum finally connected with the floor. Its sinewy string was bolstered by a second drop and then a third that followed the trail their predecessor had left. 

"I can't stop it...it..." Stan choked out. The sensation of the slick lubricant pushing out of his chafed tip was threatening to overwhelm him again. He couldn't stop his swollen balls from sharply hitching before settling in their sac. He clenched his jaw to steady himself.

Emily's shock was suddenly interrupted by the house computer.

“ALERT! KEVIN, PETER, LILLY AND CORA ARE ON APPROACH...ETA THIRTY-TWO MINUTES.” the degraded computer blared at maximum volume its voice distorting into a faux-military camber. Its stutters replaced with ear-splitting volume. 

Stan and Emily looked at each other at the same time. Their faces twisted in worry, both unsure what to do.


	5. Part 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stan and Emily have to confront their kids about whats happening with Stan and...lets say things get a bit rough.

“Put something on, anything, just anything,” Emily said with a sudden seriousness. He could tell she was stressed but that's when she shined. Emily always took charge and always seemed to know what to do. Even so, he couldn’t help but notice how wide her eyes had gotten before she raced away towards the kitchen. Stan couldn’t help but look down at the wet clear drops of his pre-cum on the hallway’s worn plastic floor. He tried to wipe the slick liquid with his bare foot but it only smeared it in a large slimy arc only making the very thing he was trying to hide more apparent. To his alarm he could barely feel the liquid on his scrunched up toes.

His eyes re-focused on his abused tool as his increased heart rate and Emily’s touch was slowly lifting his cock upward as it grew in length and rigidity. His balls felt heated in the afterglow of his wife’s gentle groping which wasn’t helping matters. Even flaccid, his penis was bigger than he used to be hard. The thing attached between his legs felt alien, apart from him. But the throbbing of hot blood down its slowly rising length was a stark and urgent reminder that it was very much his body.

Another bead of glistening pre-cum dripped from the tip of his red and overused tool as it jutted outward. His hands gripped the narrow hallway walls as his fingers tore small gashes in the thin peeling decorative coverings that adorned the walls. Stan couldn’t help but push his thighs together, pressing his swollen testes together as his hips jutted outward making his still-swelling length even more pronounced. Another drop of pre-cum leaked from his tip before breaking and silently splattering below.

Stan’s breathing was becoming labored and fast but suddenly the smell of cleaning agents wafted into his sensitive nostrils. He winced as the smell permeated what felt like his entire head at once. He couldn’t hold back a deep snort as his lungs tried to clear the chemical burning smell from his nose. The smell snapped him out of his growing infatuation with his nethers. Stan shook his head. He hadn’t realized how bad it was getting, he could barely think a few minutes without becoming entranced by his own assets. While he still was present and clear he had to act fast.

Heading to their bedroom he was determined to cobble something together before the kids came back. He still had no idea how they were going to broach what was happening to him to them. He hoped Emily would think of something as he rifled through their meager clothes.

“Come on, there muth be something…” Stan only had a moment to realize how much better he was getting at talking with his newly long mouth before he returned to his task. Most of their clothes were patched, torn and ragged to the point that they would do little to hide his current condition. There definitely wasn’t anything that would fit his taller frame properly. But it was better than nothing. Stan grunted as he slipped on the best pair of underwear he had, a frayed pair of briefs that were once something of quality but long since discarded by their original owner. They went on snugly around his thighs as he wiggled them upward and over his widened hips.

“Hhnnnn!” Stan gasped suddenly as he pulled the underwear up by its tenuous waistband. The breath was almost knocked out of him. It felt like he was suddenly on the verge of cumming. The excruciatingly pleasurable tightness of the fabric as it cupped his heavy testes was sending shocks of electric pleasure through his entire crotch. He dared not move as his almost eleven-inch cock bobbed at full-attention, the underside of its thick base pressed against the top of the thread-bare elastic of the underwear. Stan’s head craned upward as his face strained, the muscles in his elongated neck tensed under the skin as thick veins pulsed. The tightness of his sensitive balls made him feel like if he even moved a muscle he would explode.

After taking what seemed like an endless supply of deep breaths and thinking about Emily and the kids he finally conquered the pleasure enough to continue. His tool was still throbbing angrily but he didn't feel like he was in immediate danger of cumming anymore. After that shower he wasn’t sure what he had left, but he didn't want to find out by painting his seed all over their few pieces of clothing in the world.

Slowly, like he was defusing a bomb, Stan maneuvered the waistband of the underwear up around the base of his cock. The only direction he could push the throbbing tool was up, towards his slightly concave belly. Every other direction hurt too much given how hard his length was. He didn't want to chance any more interactions with his cock that he needed. The pleasure coursing through his sensitive cock was still threatening to overwhelm him. He had a faint hope that the column of hot throbbing meat pressing against his abdomen would abate and nestle into his underwear by time the kids got back.

He pulled as many shirts out of their closet as he could find. The thickness of his neck posed a difficulty he had to account for. He was aware that his disfigured, approaching inhuman, body wouldn’t fit most of his normal clothes well anymore. More than that, he felt like he needed to hide himself. He didn’t want Kevin, Ethan, Lilly or Charlotte to see him like this. Oh god Charlotte. The realization of what he had set in motion hit him harder than seeing his body grow and change into the thing he was becoming. The worry in his wife’s eyes felt like a relatively small compared to what he expected from his youngest daughter. He hadn’t thought any of this through. He felt so stupid, so ashamed.

He didn't know how he was going to explain this all to Charlotte, or if eve even could. The rest of them would understand, even if it took them some time. He just knew they would. But Charlotte, she…he didn’t know what he was going to do. Tears ran down his face as he wrestled with a wide-collared shirt as he dragged it over his head. He had miscalculated and his arm and head holes were misaligned, his right arm pinned against his body as his left frantically tried to wiggle out of its opening. In a sudden flurry of anger he ripped the shirt off his body, the old fabric giving almost no resistance to its destruction. Stan threw the scraps of fabric at the wall as hard as he could. He felt like he deserved to be turned into a monster, he couldn’t even take care of his family. He collapsed onto the edge of the bed and couldn’t stifle the tears that ran down his face. He had already felt like he had cried more in the past day than he had afforded himself in the last twenty years. Tears were a luxury, but as far as he knew they may be his last as a man…or whatever thing he was now.

“Hawwhhh,” he moaned, the deep sound carried and was like nothing he had ever produced before as he leaned forward and held his foreign head in his hands. He didn’t care about what noises he was making anymore. He felt like he had lost everything he ever cared about. He just sat there until his long ears swiveled towards the hallway. The sound of scrubbing was coming through the open door and the smell of the harsh chemicals too. Without looking up Stan could tell it was Emily. He could hear her pants rubbing the floor, the sound of the brushes individual bristles bending as they cleaned up his mess.

Looking up with red wet eyes Stan saw Emily’s feet first as she worked her way backwards on her hands and knees down the hallway, scrubbing and wiping as she went. They didn't have much cleaner, even simple chemicals like ammonia were hard to come by. Cleaning their small bathroom on a regular basis was the one luxury they splurged on for their family. By the sound of the splashes and the overwhelming smell of chemicals permeating his newly sensitive nose he could tell she was using all of it. She wasn’t saving anything for later even as much as they both knew they would need it.

Emily’s had progressed far enough down the hallway that her head cleared the doorway as she diligently cleaned the mess he had made. She paused for a moment as he stared at her. But instead of looking back at him with her piercing green eyes she quickly continued cleaning. He knew what a toll this was taking on her. And all he was doing was sitting on the bed crying while she did what she had to. His hands bunched up handfuls of their bedsheets. He felt like he couldn’t afford to take half-measures either. What was done was done now.

He still needed to get dressed properly, he was still only wearing his frayed underwear. The sinking thoughts had thankfully made his raging erection recede far enough that it no longer pressed against his abdomen. Looking down he could see his chafed but wet urethra stared up at him atop his receding penis. The much more manageable length was now wedged between his wispy pubic hairs and the stretched tent of the underwear’s waistband. The fabric contoured his swollen balls tightly, he didn't dare adjust them for fear of awakening his flaccid tool once again.

Nothing seemed like it would fit. Stan stared at his folded pants. He knew there was no way he was going to get them on over his new assets without losing control again. He looked around trying to find something to use. Stan’s eyes widened as he realized what to do. Quickly getting to his feet he yanked the rough sheet fabric off their mattress. Whipping the stiff cloth through the air he draped it over his head and body like a long robe. The fabric was loose enough that he could wrap it around his waist without pressing any harder against himself than his briefs already were.

The weight of the sheet pinning his ears down was uncomfortable but bearable. He had to know if it was enough. He didn't want to freak out his kids. It felt like enough but he couldn’t be sure. He opened his mouth to call for Emily but then thought better of it as he heard her open the glass door of their shower. He winced waiting for a reprimand of the foamy soup of jism he had left but none came. He wanted so desperately to go help her clean his mess, but he knew that it would only make things worse. Flashes of his time in the shower skittered through his mind. The memories were strangely fragmented. The feelings were as clear as if he was still there. He could almost feel the hot water coursing over his body as his hands furiously traversed his length. His balls fed his need as they slapped the wall…

The tightness surrounding his crotch felt suddenly unbearable. He didn't think as his hands groped through the layers of sheet to massage his suddenly throbbing package. The contours of his flesh were indistinct under so much bunched up fabric but even through it all he could feel his hand heft his weighty balls as his thighs squeezed together. He could feel a wetness beginning to spread from his slowly extending cock as it deposited small drops of pre-cum across his abdomen and the rough fabric of the sheets that wrapped him.

“Whinni-“ Stan’s hands clamped his mouth shut halfway through the sudden animalistic cry. His body wanted to desperately to be freed from its confinement. His widened hips gyrated forward, thrusting his well-covered crotch outward before he realized what he was doing and managed to stop himself. Gingerly he removed his hands from his long face and hesitantly touched the bunched up sheet around his loins. He had to check that the wetness hadn’t soaked through enough. A shudder of pleasure arced through him as he grazed his lemon-sized right testicle in the examination. It almost brought him to his knees. It was no good. He had to find another way to make sure he was covered enough for who he knew was heading towards their small home on the hill.

They had a large mirror stored away. Even the barest vanity was another luxury that only caused more issues than it solved. The mirror lay behind a stack of corrugated plastic storage boxes. Stan couldn’t help but glance inside each one as he moved them out of the way. They were filled with carefully-packed knick knacks and trinkets they had found in the heaps. Emily and him had a hopelessly optimistic dream that the aggregated value would somehow help them give their children a better life away from the squalor that saturated every aspect of their lives. Now with his acceptance to the job he wished he could tell his younger self to save the trouble.

Freeing the mirror, Stan blew on it to clear the cobwebs and dirt that had accumulated on it before vigorously wiping it with his arm and the sheet he now wore. The smeary dust gave way to an acceptable-enough reflection. Distorted and shattered on one corner the mirror was still useful as he propped it up onto a sill near the small window that was the only source of natural light in their bedroom.

He peered into it afraid of what he was going to see. It was the first time he had seen himself in years. There was little in their district reflective enough to give him a good picture of what he looked like. He hardly remembered his own face and now…now it was already too late. He would never see himself, his old self again. He should have done this before he took the pills. Stan cursed his own stupidity and lack of foresight. The figure in the mirror came into view.

The reflection that traversed the mirrors rippling eddies of silver and spider web of hairline cracks was something he didn't recognize. The thing in the mirror looked shocked as its long face grimaced in lockstep with his own. He took a step back, the thing in the mirror stepped back at the same time just to confirm that it wasn’t a trick of the light or a hallucination. Nothing looked right. Stan felt like he had been tossed out of his body again. His hands moved towards his face, the growth there was the most visible and pronounced. Just as his fingers touched the edge of his pronounced nostrils the front door ground open and the children’s distinct entry chimes all sounded in quick succession.

“CHILRENNNN AAAARRRII-VING IN FIVE MINUTES,” the house computer shouted as if it was attempting to catch itself up with reality. He could hear the kids laughing and kicking the already well-ruined entry speaker as they stormed the kitchen.

Gasping Stan pulled the sheets over his face and tightened the loose knot that held the sheet around his body. He didn’t have time to inspect if the wet slick stains that pressed against his bare skin were visible from the outside.

“Moooommm…Daaaaadddd, we’re home!” Charlotte shouted as she skipped down the hallway towards the bedroom. Stan froze, he didn’t dare turn around. He felt like a child using sheets to protect them from monsters. Except now he was the monster and was hiding from a child. His child. Stan held his breath as Charlotte’s sneakers banged their way closer and closer as if in slow-motion.

“Charlotte! I told you I wanted you to message if you wanted to stay over at Jenny’s,” Emily practically teleported in front of Charlotte blocking her access to their bedroom. Stan’s heart was beating what felt like a thousand beats a minute as he quickly hid in the corner, flattening himself against the wall as best he could.

“I know, but you and dad don’t have implants, it's like you are from the stone age!”

“You know why, now come on, I was just cleaning in there,” Emily chided as she guided their youngest back out of the hallway towards their living area. It wasn’t lost on him how cool and collected she was being. The way she was talking made it seem like nothing was amiss at all. Emily peeked in the doorway towards his huddled mass wrapped in sheets.

“Wait here,” she whispered through clenched teeth to not be heard by their kids. “Come out when I say,” she added before resuming her motherly demeanor and smiling down the hallway towards their kids. Stan could see her hands were red and raw from scrubbing the bathroom and hallway madly. He didn't even know if she got the kitchen where he had made a mess when he first took the pills.

“Whats with all these cans?” Ethan chimed from across the house. Stan could hear them like they were in the same room as him even with the sheets covering his ears. Stan winced. He knew he couldn’t realistically hide them from the kids in such a small home. It was inevitable that they would find them, but he had hoped it would be much later. If he didn't spend so much of the time feeling sorry for himself or letting the monster he was becoming take hold he could have done something, done anything. His only fear now was that they would open the cans and eat the contents. The thought of that he couldn’t bear to even entertain.

“Yeah mom, what are these? Did we win a Stoff' lottery or something?” Lilly, their oldest daughter asked. A flurry of discussion and questions ensued as Stan could hear the kids unstacking the organized pallet of the cans to investigate.

“Ok ok, Kevin, put those back…. do not open those! Hey put it back its not for you,” Emily’s tone transitioned from matronly to commanding as she got the rowdy bunch in line.

“Now I have something we need to get out of the way, it's about your father.” Emily’s tone became somber. Stan could hear the kids quiet down almost immediately. They knew something serious was about drop on them. Stan inched his way towards the open doorway of their bedroom.

“What is it mom? Is dad ok?” Kevin asked.

Stan could hear Emily take a deep breath.

“Sit down, please, all of you,” Emily asked before continuing. The chairs squeaked against the floor and creaked as his family sat at the table.

“Where is dad?” Charlotte asked innocently, Stan could tell there was a tinge of growing anxiety in her voice.

“Your father…your father,” Emily sputtered.

Stan gathered all his courage as he secured the sheets around himself and rounded the corner into the hallway. He knew he couldn’t let her do this alone as he steeled himself and walked into the kitchen behind where Emily was standing.

The entire table looked up at him in shock.

His face was hooded as he could make it, but even so he could see the clear distress in his children’s eyes. Emily was the only one to keep looking forward with him at their kids. A hushed silence fell over the room as he stood there, not moving, unsure where to begin

“Whats that?” Charlotte pointed at him bluntly, breaking the silence.

“Who…who are you? Who is this mom?” Lilly added quickly after.

Stan began to open his mouth to speak but before he could Emily did it for him.

“This… this.. is your father.”

“Hi Lils,” he waved weakly, he was never more aware of how much larger his hands had grown or his increased height than that moment.

Lilly was struck speechless as she stared at him. Emily was visibly shuddering, her strength failing at the confrontation. Stan took a step forward and put his hand on her shoulder to comfort her. He half-expected her to wince away but she put her hand atop his and squeezed. It felt like she had let him borrow her strength, if only just for a moment. Stan took a deep breath as he looked back at his children’s faces from behind the folds of the sheets.

“I volunteered…I mean I signed up for… You know how Inglestoff has certain people that….” Stan’s voice wavered as he tried to explain. His voice cracked like a teenagers, undulating between a surprisingly deep baritone and what sounded like his normal talking voice if he was simultaneously inhaling helium.

“They need me to… the job I took…It needs me to become…something else, I-” Stan didn’t know how to describe what he was becoming to them. He barely was able to fully confront what he had signed up for himself. Stan could see all of his children shrink away from him in their seats.

“I won’t be human anymore,” he managed to blurt out as an end-cap to his rambling and hurried explanation. Kevin, Ethan, Lilly and Charlotte’s faces were unreadable, their eyes were wide and faces drawn tight. Stan shifted uncomfortably between his feet. The silence was unbearable. Even Emily’s gentle pressure on his hand waned as her work-worn hand rested limply on his.

“Is that really you dad?” Kevin was the first to speak.

“Yeah… it is Kev, I didn’t want to scare you so I put this on,” Stan plucked at the sheet that covered almost his entire body and shrouded the rest in darkness.

“I took the pills this morning…and ate the food you saw already,” Stan pointed at the pile of canisters, one of which was resting squarely in front of Lilly where he assumed she had been inspecting it before he made himself known.

“Its going to be hard on all of us, but I want you all to know this was the only way to…” Stan didn’t know if he could reveal the reasons why he had done what he did. How bad things were for them and what fate awaited them if he hadn’t make this choice.

“We are in the red guys…really really deep in the red” Emily said softly, her eyes turning downwards for the first time. Stan could tell it was as hard as telling them that their father was turning into a monster.

“We got notice that they scheduled us for the Dalton labor camps…we would never see each other again after that,” Emily filled in as she released Stan’s hand from her shoulder and clasped her own in front of her so tightly that her knuckles turned white.

“What, wait-“ Ethan erupted suddenly, unable to process the news.

“We had until the end of the month, I…we couldn’t let them do it,” Emily couldn’t hold back a sob. Stan tried to rub her shoulders to comfort her, he knew his enlarged hands weren’t the most calming for her at the moment but he couldn’t think of anything else to do.

“We didn’t want to worry any of you…it’s getting close now. This was the only way,” Stan nodded downwards towards his sheet-obscured body. He knew they were doing them no favors hiding it anymore.

“Your father… he was given an opportunity, a rare opportunity to stop it,” Emily added.

“Emile and Brasko can do it too right? They can do what daddy did? Make money so their sickness can go away?” Charlotte asked, almost crying. Lilly moved her chair closer to their youngest and cradled her tightly to comfort her. Stan only heard the names in passing around their meals, he tried to remember if they were the young heap miners Charlotte used to play with. The last few years he was so busy doing any and every job that came his way to try to keep food on their table that he had lost track of much of his family's social lives.

“No, no they can’t they aren’t…” Emily reached out and held Charlotte’s hand. “They don't have the right stuff in them. They tried, they dont need anymore people with what they have,” she tried to explain. Stan was reassured that at least Emily knew who Charlotte was walking about. It sounded like Emile and Brasko were in worse shape as they were. It was bad everywhere in their district. Charlotte was young enough that the callousness of their world hadn’t yet sunk into her bones.

“So what does this mean? You don't want to be our father anymore?” Ethan banged his hands on the table rattling the old furniture in a sudden boiled-over fury.

Stan knew that the question was coming. It made sense it was from Ethan, he was always the hottest-headed and emotional of their children.

“Ethan…its not that-“ Stan was interrupted as Ethan bolted out of his seat, the chair falling backwards with a loud clatter and crack of something having broken.

“We could run, they could never find us," Ethan balled his fists. "Why did you do this dad? Why?!” Ethan cried, the grief turning to rage.

“There is no fighting the company, you know what they did to your grandfather, my father…” Emily tried to remind Ethan. They hardly talked about it but even their neighbors all knew the story.

“No. No. There has to be another way. They can reverse it. They can reverse it.” Ethan refused to be consoled as he shook his head. Stan knew how desperately he was trying to come to terms with what was happening.

Stan felt like he needed to show Ethan how far he had progressed. That there was no going back. The sooner he saw it the sooner he would accept it. At least Stan hoped. Stan’s hands slipped from Emily’s shoulders. He paused, knowing that there was no going back from what he was about to show them.

“There is no reversing this, I’m sorry Ethan,” he said as he slipped the bed-fabric hoodie from his head. His scooped ears rebounded upwards as his elongated muzzle was illuminated for them all to see. The sheets began to fold downward, undressing him more than he intended. Without the aid of his head to support the sheet it was receding from his body quickly. In a sudden and urgent panic he only just managed to stop the sheet from falling entirely to the floor. His hands grabbed and bunched the cloth around his hips saving what little modesty he had left.

His pale chest rose and fell with every breath as he revealed much more to his children than he intended. The distended and thickened armature of his rib-cage pushed visibly into his thin pale skin. The triangle of muscle that connected his neck to his widened shoulders tensed as he wanted nothing more than to retreat into their bedroom and lock the door. Stan gulped, his mouth felt dry.

Ethan fell silent as his eyes went as wide as a plates as Stan watched him take in his body. Stan could practically feel his son’s eyes taking in every detail of his monstrous visage. Despite his instinct to avoid further pain he looked around the room at his other children. Their mouths hung limply open, aghast at what they were taking in he was sure. Looking back at Ethan he could see all the color drain from his eldest son. Ethan staggered backwards before slumping into an awkward seating position on the broken upended chair’s legs. It looked as if all the energy and fury he had displayed moments ago was drained from his body.

“aaaaahhhhhHHHHHH!!!” Charlotte let out of a slowly escalating scream as Stan struggled to draw the sheet back over his head but the damage was done.

"Shhh...shhh it's ok," Emily comforted Charlotte until her screaming faded into a gurgle.

“I’m sorry, I know what it must look like, what I look like,” he tried to apologize as he drew the sheet back over his head, careful to not expose the area between his legs. Even a glancing thought regarding his new assets was starting to re-ignite his dormant erection. He had unfocus on that immediately. He couldn’t let that happen in front of his kids. There was no way he could live with himself if he revealed that part of the changes to them. Stan gritted his teeth as he steeled himself against the subdued but insistent throbbing that coursed through his loins.

“Are you still…you?” Lilly asked, she was the most thoughtful of their children and was taking it all in what seemed like relative stride. Her question was a welcome distraction. He knew that there were many more questions and thoughts brewing behind her smart brown eyes.

“I am…I am still me. Listen, all of you… I will always be your father. I love you and nothing can change that. Not even this,” Stan gestured to his chest as he tightened the sheets to try to prevent another accidental disrobing. He scanned the room to reassure everybody that what he was saying was true. None of them broke away from his gaze, even in the most stressful situation of his life it made him crack a faint smile. They had raised good strong kids.

He realized he had to tell them that it wasn't over. There was more coming. He had to make it easier for them, any way he could. They all had to confront what was ahead.


	6. Part 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stan and Emily retire for the night, but Stan's changing body still has a lot left in it. Will Emily be able to survive the beast Stan is becoming?

“I need you to all know...that I am still changing," Stan added emphasis to the second part. 

"What's happening to me is still happening,” Stan didn’t know how to explain it properly. It had been a very stressful and strange day and the words felt hard to get out.

“I…we need you all to understand that there will be more changes…maybe a lot more,” Stan looked over to the pile of disturbed food canisters. 

“You already saw the cans, the company gave them to me to change me. I have to go through all of them before the end. They…it is food, but not…” Stan trailed off. He realized he was giving them too much information, the shock of what he had shown them was still sinking in. The food canisters only reminded him of the sickening feeling of licking the vicious goo out of the can like a wild animal. He remembered the wracking pain as his body warped into something unrecognizable and the helplessness he felt to stop it. He didn’t want any of them to know how terrified he was of the feeling of his humanity slipping away and being powerless to stop it.

“Whatever you do, do not open…do not even touch these,” Emily added as she picked up the can off the table that Lilly had been inspecting before he had made his entrance. 

“I know you might feel like throwing them away or helping your father by eating them yourself,” Emily said as she turned the heavy twenty-thousand calorie canister over in her hands. It read "Stage three" in bold letters across the bottom.

“If you do, your father will die and we will go to Dalton camp. If he doesn't complete this to the letter of their instructions he will die. If you try to eat it you will die. I need you all to understand,” Emily said with more seriousness than he had ever heard from her normally kind and flowing voice. She went around the room asking each of their children directly if they understood what was at stake. Each of the kids nodded in turn. 

The claims of death took him aback. He hadn’t read the documentation thoroughly and he wasn’t sure Emily had either. What she had just said could have been to keep their kids from interfering with the cans or been entirely true or both. Either way it felt right, if terrifying, to him. The more he thought about it the more he realized there was nowhere secure they could hide them to prevent their children from gaining access to the contents. Stan had little doubt that his body may collapse without the nutrients prescribed to him by the company. He had even less doubt that if any of them ate it besides him it may kill them.

“Do you all understand?” Emily asked their children. They all nodded silently, their eyes still transfixed his sheet-clad body. 

“Your father is going through a lot of changes, we have to help support him like he is helping to support us,” Emily said, her voice tinged with sadness. Their children all quietly voiced their agreement, their eyes still stared into the middle distance. They had both laid so much on them, their whole world was turned upside-down in a day. Stan wanted to reach out and hug each and every one of them and tell them it was going to be ok. But he couldn’t. He cursed his new body.

Emily took a deep breath as she stared up at the one of the computer’s few working readout screens. Stan followed her eyes and was shocked by how late in the evening it was. 

“Ok it's getting late, is anybody hungry? We have a few cubes left before our next ration I can heat up,” she said with a forced normalcy. Kevin mumbled something about not having eaten as he set his head into his arms on the table. Lilly still stared at him, unable to break her focus. Ethan had gotten up from his broken chair and left entirely after Emily’s dinner question.   
Stan winced in surprise as Charlotte tugged on his right hand and looked up at him with her sweet purple-green eyes. 

“Its going to be ok daddy,” she said innocently as she pressed her body against his side.

“Thank you, Charlotte. It will be ok,” he echoed. “I’m sorry about all of this,” he kissed the top of her head. “I’ll make it up to you, to all of you, I promise,” he said as he squeezed her hand in his.

The rest of the evening went surprisingly normally if quite a bit more quietly. The kids watched non-interactive shows on their implants while Emily cleaned and made preparations for the next day’s meals. Keeping a house as chaotic as theirs was a full time job and despite his best efforts to help her his new body only made everything harder and more awkward. Plates slipped out of his hands, his numb toes made him stumble and trip over the sheet on multiple occasions, each time he only barely managed to recover in time. He could tell Emily was doing her best to deal with it but he could tell how hard it was on her.

The kids were all too-happy to go off to bed. Ethan came back home smelling of burnt ash and melted plastic, his clothes even more torn than when he had left. His eyes were still red and puffy from crying. His right hand was flecked with crimson from a small cut. He refused to look at or speak to Stan as Emily tended to his wound. She sent him to take a short shower after fighting with the house computer for another water loan on their already astronomically terrible credit.

Once all the children were in their shared rooms Stan retreated to their bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed, still swaddled in their sheet. His ears swiveled atop his head to check if anybody was still up. Confirming the quiet murmurs of their kids talking to each other in their bunkbeds he unentangled himself. He tried to un-focus on the conversations he was hearing. He didn't want to invade his children’s privacy and especially didn't want to hear what they may be saying about him.

He whipped the sheet through the air several times to try to get the wrinkles out but the rough fabric had too much memory as he set it over their mattress and straightened it as best he could. He tucked its edges under the thin elevated foam that made up their bed. He inspected the sheet now that was spread out and was thankful that any pre-cum he had leaked had dried sufficiently that the stains, if any, were indescribable. 

Emily emerged from the bathroom just as Stan had finished arranging their best pillows atop the lumpy ones. Emily entered their small bedroom and slid closed the door behind her. She was wearing her stained, but clean, gray sleeping bra and panties. They did nothing to accentuate her figure as they were both several sizes too large for her and had been taken in by the seamstress down the hill in The Narrows. Even so Stan felt his loins churn at the sight of her bare flesh under the buzzing light of their bedroom. Emily was looking at him contemplatively.

“What?” He asked almost rhetorically, not knowing if he really wanted an answer.

“You are a good father, the kids know that,” she said as she approached the bed and ran her hand over the sheet, as if measuring its flatness.

“I love you Stan,” she said looking up at him. She was so close he could practically hear her heartbeat. 

“I…I love you too Em,” Stan smiled at her. He felt like the existential dread that filled him at what had transpired during the course of the day was nothing compared to his wife’s love. The throbbing between his legs was getting worse. He had successfully ignored it all evening and it felt like it was roaring back to life with a vengeance.

“And I wish you didn't need to turn into…you know...to make the bed once in a while,” she laughed.

Stan couldn’t help but chuckle as he stretched their heirloom quilted blanket over the bed. Emily wasted no time in destroying the bed’s relatively immaculate presentation as she hopped in and scrunched up the blanket around her. Stan laughed as he joined her, settling into the gentle depression he had formed from years of sleeping on his side of the bed. He shuffled trying to find a comfortable position. The contours of the mattress didn't hit him right anymore. 

Stan squirmed, trying nearly every position but was unable to find one where the mattress wasn’t pushing into him the wrong way. His balls ached and his cock was getting harder by the minute but he chose to ignore both of them. He wanted to spend time with his wife. They both laughed like school sweethearts as they played tug-of-war for control of the blanket. It felt like nothing had even changed for a beautiful fleeting moment.

Laying on their backs, they both stared at the ceiling. Stan felt Emily’s hand take his, her fingers interlocking with his own. He had never felt her hand feel at the same time so small and so powerful. 

“I’m sorry for all of this, I knew it was going to be hard, but I didn't know-“ Stan began to say before Emily cut him off.

“No more of that, we have to look forward. For them,” she said as she squeezed his hand.

Stan nodded silently in agreement as he stared up at the ceiling. The throbbing in his cock was growing more and more insistent as he felt it push sideways into his overtaxed underwear until it was overlapping his thigh.

“Lights off,” Emily commanded as the lights in their bedroom partially dimmed before snapping off suddenly, the computer somewhere deeper in the house chimed in acknowledgement of the command. The room was still well-lit by the distant towers' glow that poured in through their small window. Their eyes adjusted to the ever-present twilight. 

“Uhhhnnn,” Stan moaned as he tried to adjust himself with his free hand. His cock had become painfully stuck sideways beneath his underwear as it further inflamed. The tip had breached past the leg opening and was pressing firmly between the frayed hem of his briefs and the bare flesh of his thigh. 

“What's wrong?” Emily inquired as she sat up, drawing the blanket back. Stan tried to cover himself but it was too late. Emily’s eyes went wide for a moment as she took in his situation. 

“Wow dear, that…that is something,” Emily stuttered almost at a loss for words. 

“I just have to….” Stan grunted as he lifted his hips into the air and pulled the underwear down far enough to free his tool. It sprung urgently upwards. He wasn’t even fully erect yet and it still looked and felt enormous between his legs. His heavy balls strained against the bunched up underwear. Their confinement was at an end as he couldn’t help but dig his hands deep into the bunched up briefs to grope their swollen expanse. He grunted as he spread his legs, ripping the underwear off his body with a *rippppp*. He lamented their destruction, having been his best pair but the pleasure refocused him on his balls.

“Ahhhhh!” Stan let out a cry of anguished pleasure as he massaged his sensitive testicles. They were visibly more swollen than they were just hours ago, his body had replenished his reserves through the evening and now the heavy oval orbs pulsed and hitched hotly against his grasping hands. Each heavy taste was big enough to fully fill his palm. Any attempt to obscure his package from Emily was dashed as he couldn't help but clutch and massage himself. The ghostly illumination of the room illustrated his penis in stark light. Without warning Emily’s hand wrapped around the midpoint of his shaft and gave his tool a hesitant squeeze.

“Oh god Em…hhnhhnn!!!” Stan cried out. The touch of his wife on his sensitive flesh sent a lance of pleasure down into his balls and up his spine. A thick pearl of pre-cum pushed out of the tip of his spire before breaking and trickling down Emily’s fingers. Stan couldn’t help but grind his hips upward, forcing his wife’s grip to masturbate at least some of his increasingly turgid length. He was growing longer and thicker by the moment as she pulled her hand away. 

Stan looked down, he was already fully erect. All ten and a half inches of him jutting out from his crotch into the night air. Thick veins pulsed just under the thin skin of his cock pulsing his mushroom-tipped head as it engorged with hot blood. Stan couldn’t suppress an animalistic whine as his hands released his balls and picked up where Emily left off and began to madly masturbate up and down his cock from root to tip.

“Are you ok?!” Emily asked with concern. Her voice sounded muted, Stan’s own powerful heartbeat filled his sensitive ears. The sound was like a drumbeat driving his more and more wild.

“Em, please, don't…I don't know what I'll do,” Stan beseeched her. His objection was silenced as pleasure coursed through his body forcing him to grind his teeth ground against each other. He felt his hesitation quickly eroding. Every worn muscle in his body felt a sudden and deep needful ache. All the suppressed erections and tight constriction of the day coalesced into this one moment. He could barely breathe as he drove himself closer and closer.

Emily was shuffling and wiggling next to him. Her moments rocked his heaving body as their thin mattress moved underneath him. He hardly noticed or cared, his hands were a flurry. The pre-cum leaking from his tip had not abated and had given his entire cock a shiny exterior that glistened wetly in the low light. Stan needed both his hands to fully grasp the circumference of his throbbing tool as the flesh throbbed in his grip. He slowed momentarily to squeeze the root of his cock which only inflamed his length further and coaxed several more dollops of pre to course down the shuddering mass between his legs.

Stan felt a sudden weight on his thighs. It took effort to crane his head up from the rapt attention he was paying to his cock. It was Emily. His wife was straddling his writhing body. Her panties and bra were gone. Her pert small breasts jutted towards him with erect nipples as his own movements caused them to lightly jiggle. Her lithe form basked in the low light astride his body. Stan stopped masturbating as he took her in. His nostrils flared as he took in her scent. She was as perfect as he could ever want. He felt a squeamish butterfly-like feeling deep in his gut. Gazing at her body caused another slick dribble of pre-cum to leak out of him. Without his hands to spread the liquid it formed a small rivulet down the underside of his rock-hard jutting cock. 

"Em, you don't...hurr...understand, it's...it's," he pleaded with her. But Emily was insistent. He knew somewhere deep down that her love of him was going to lead to her getting hurt. No matter how much he wanted to protect her. He wasn't even sure of his own faculties despite his assurances to their children.

Emily’s hands grasped his length and spread the lubricant up and down his penis, slowly. Much too slowly. But Stan couldn’t stop moaning at the pleasure that threatened to overwhelm him. It was taking all he had to not erupt right then and there. It felt like he was holding back an unstoppable force as his balls rolled and pulled up and into his thighs. 

“Emily…” he managed to moan out as she slowly pulled his throbbing erection towards the deep-set area between her legs. The curving lines of where her thighs met her torso led to a small manicured forest of dark black hairs that covered her vagina’s tight entrance. Birth control wasn’t readily available so they rarely copulated, it was hard enough to have four children as it was. But none of that mattered now. Stan could smell her, really smell her. The acrid-sweet musk emanated from her body, stronger now. He had never noticed how good his wife smelled before now. It was intoxicating. He felt a bubbling need to take her. He didn't know how much longer he could control himself.

"Look at what I got," Emily produced a small plastic and foil wrapped circle. A condom. She had actually saved one from the last charity visit. It must have been more than a year ago that she had snuck that out from one of the closely-guarded care packages that had been distributed to a few of their neighbors. Emily was having a hard time opening the small hermetically-sealed package. The rarity of the small protective balloons gave them little experience and Emily even less so as Stan normally applied his own. He couldn't wait any longer as the plastic crinkled fruitlessly in her fingers. She huffed in frustration as she tried to rotated the small circle to pry at every possible edge.

Stan groaned as he gripped her bare sides and pulled her towards his jutting penis. The love for his wife felt like it was being pushed away by a rising carnal lust. Stan couldn't stop himself. The swollen tip of his cock pressed needfully, insistently, against her lower lips. 

“Wait Stan, we need protection…I’m-“ Emily protested before letting out a sudden gasp. Her body shuddered as his tip began to part her womanhood. 

“Stan you’re too large..wait…” Emily moaned as Stan's grip moved to her arms. He practically pulled her onto himself. 

“I can’t stop…hnnghhh!” Stan cried. The lust surging through his body was telling him to push deeper and more insistently into her. Emily writhed atop him as inch after inch of his concrete-hard tool sank between her legs. Her back arched as his throbbing cock parted and filled her inner sanctum. He had never felt her body so tightly wrapped around his penis. Stan could tell she wasn’t ready for him. Emily’s own juices were only now starting to wash against his delving flesh as he sunk the first five-inches of his length inside of her. His own pre-cum provided enough lubrication for the both of them. This was as deep as he had ever been in his wife and it wasn’t enough. He kept pushing deeper. 

“Oh god, oh god, oh god,” Emily repeated as she moaned and bucked atop him. Her head rolled madly on her shoulders as another inch sunk into her. His grip on her arms gravitated to the gentle curves of her tensed ass cheeks as he pulled her more insistently onto himself. Emily’s hips began to gyrate. He could feel her erect clitoris dragging along the top of his penis as he penetrated her. Her thin frame shuddered as he encountered resistance. 

“No more, it's ahhhh!!! The children, they can…uhhh!!! hear,” Emily groaned atop him. Her eyes were half-lidded as she objected. Her narrow chest was rising and falling quickly as her long black hair whipped over her shoulders. 

“Emilleeeee…hurrhhh…” Stan groaned deeply in response, unable to wrestle control from the lust that filled his every thought. He knew the kids could hear them through the thin walls but he couldn’t quiet his own needful moans. He pulled her down onto his cock harder. His large hands dug into her hips as he increased his grip. He was using her body leverage against his need. Her legs were no help to keep him from diving deeper into her inner folds. Stan easily overcame what little resistance Emily could muster, her legs spread further and further apart over the bed. Emily half-screamed, half-moaned as another slow inch of him disappeared into her increasingly-wet snatch. His cock was on fire. He had never felt so hard in his life. Foamy drool leaked out of the corners of his mouth. It felt like he may cum at any moment. He desperately felt the need to hilt himself before that happened. Only three inches remained between his own thin pubic hairs and the glistening hairs of his wife’s bush. 

He was close. So close. The eighth inch of his male-hood squelched past her wet entrance as his engorged tip found itself pressing against her spongy cervix. Emily’s hands were madly massaging the stretched lips of her vagina as she gasped for air. Stan could see her discomfort but it only made him want to take her more. His body was on autopilot as he pressed hard against the opening to her uterus. The pleasure was driving him mad. Emily let out a high-pitched whining cry as the head of his huge cock jammed against her unyielding cervix. 

“Stan please….” Tears of pained pleasure streamed down her face. Her hands braced themselves on his broad chest. She locked her arms and with a concerted effort she pushed herself away from him.

Emily managed to remove several inches of his soaking cock from her pussy. Her swollen clitoris dragged against his length making her cry out. Stan grabbed her by her hips and overpowered her arm’s strength as he managed to pull her back onto himself. 

“HRRNGH…HURRR!!” He was making deep inhuman grunting and snorting noises now, more akin to an animal than a man. But he didn't care. He could only focus on mating. Making her entirely his.

“UUHHHH!!” Emily moaned as she collapsed forward, her arms buckled under his powerful insistence. Her hips pushed forward, elevated in the air by the support of his manhood as she was re-impaled. Her teeth bit her lower lip as she cried out again and again in unwanted pleasure. The sensation of her hot wet folds wrapping around him was too great to bear as Stan’s hips thrust harder and harder into his wife. 

“HURR...HURRRR-...WHINNEEYYYY!!!” Stan roared as his whole shaft tensed as his swollen churning balls hitched upwards towards his groin. Stan could feel his cock’s head swell inside of her just as a torrent of scalding hot cum pushed its way through his length. All the muscles in his neck swelled with exertion as he poured powerful rope after rope of seed into Emily. His legs both kicked compulsively below him as he came. Their valuable old blanket ripping below him before being ejected off the bed entirely. 

There wasn’t enough room in Emily’s already overstretched pussy to hold the volume of jism he was producing. Stan’s churning sticky seed wormed its way down his penis and began to push past her labia in powerful sloppy gales of white cum. The last almost three inches of his thick cock stuck outside her writhing form, previously only wetted by what little of their shared juices escaped the overstretched lips of her womanhood was now drenched in a veritable waterfall of his own seed. 

“Uhhh…uhh…uhhhh,” Emily moaned as she craned her head skyward, her hands gripped her small breasts for support as she came. He could feel her walls weakly convulse and pry at his length. The volume of cum was being pushed out of her tight hole even faster as she orgasmed atop him. Stan’s vision went blurry as he came again and again into her tightness. His balls roiled between his legs as his heart raced in his chest to a fevered pitch.

Stan began to thrust in and out Emily even as he could feel the powerful ropes of cum abating. He was still hard, excruciatingly hard. He was not satiated. The slickness of his own seed driving was driving him mad with pleasure as the musky smell of his own cum and his wife’s sex filled his nose.

Brusquely grabbing Emily, who was still riding the crashing waves of her own orgasm, he rolled her sideways onto the bed. He was on top of her in moments, his cock never fully leaving her lightly convulsing pussy. Emily squealed in shock. Stan’s arms her shoulders as she writhed beneath him. His nostrils flared as he expelled powerful puffs of hot air against her face. He had to mate. He had to take her again.

“Stan…uhhh…puh…please…” she begged as Stan resumed his furious thrusting. Emily’s head tilted upward in a silent cry, her mouth open as her whole body was pushed across the mattress by the powerful muscle between his legs. His cock sloppily withdrew far enough that its engorged head plucked at her stretched outer lips before plunging his as much of his length as he could get back into her. He thrust over and over, his pace furious and unrelenting. His still swollen balls swung pendulously between his elevated thighs. The feeling of their heavy churning flesh only escalated the pleasure coursing through his every nerve.

“…cAHNT…MLEEEE…MURHHNN-” he grunted lustily with what little of his awareness could burrow through the need. He only was partially aware of what he was doing to his wife but was powerless to stop himself.

“It’s…ahhh! AHH!! Please…Stan, pleaahh!!!” Emily pleaded weakly. Emily wrestled her arms free of Stan’s gripping hands as he clutched the sheets below her. Her hands reached up and gripped his broad back. Her nails were too worn down from hard work to even scratch his skin as she desperately held onto his heaving torso. She pawed uselessly at him like a trapped animal as his thrusts sped up.

“Please…pu…pu..uuhhh,” His thrusts quieted her objections as her voice regressed into a series of pleasured moans. His still steaming-hot congealing cum was everywhere. Nothing could deter him from pistoning his cock past her gaping outer lips.

“cuh…cumminnggggg!!!” Emily howled in unwanted pleasure underneath him as she orgasmed violently. Her body curled upward, the top of her head brushing Stan’s sternum before whipping backwards as her back arched. Hot liquid poured out of her opening mixing with the gobs of white cum that saturated both their crotches. Her pussy pulled at his length harder and more insistently than the first time despite its fatigued and overworked muscles.

It wasn’t long until Stan felt his balls pull up between his legs and his heavy cock engorge excruciatingly. His huge tongue rolled out of the side of his mouth as his ears pinned themselves backwards along the top of his head. With one heavy thrust he attempted to fruitlessly to hilt himself. His cock jammed itself against Emily’s cervix hard as he edged ever closer towards the satisfaction his body craved. 

“HURNEEIIGHHHH!!” He screamed towards the ceiling as he came. His voice deepened temporarily as the muscles of his overtaxed cock stretched another half-inch in length. The circumference of his cock subtly expanded even as he shot rope after rope of jism into Emily. His increased length pushed Emily across the mattress as not another fractional inch of him could fit in her. A thin line of hairs formed from his neck to the small of his back as he came. His toes thickened and scrunched further together behind him as his tensed ass cheeks modestly plumped and pushed against each other. His hands clutched the fabric to the left and right of Emily’s exhausted body as the muscles in his arms tensed and released as he moaned in pleasure. 

Something he had never felt before under his taught taint pulsed once then twice. His eyes rolled backwards in his distended skull. The pleasure of whatever it was hollowed him out. There was no thought but the lancing heat that coursed through his body. He began to rear backwards onto his haunches. His cock pulled at her pussy’s still convulsing walls as it extricated itself. His withdrawing male-hood made a wet *schlorrp* as the cum-fueled suction between them broke. Eight inches of his soaking-wet length pulled out of her now-gaping opening. Now freed, his eleven-inch monster bobbed heavy on his groin. 

His liberated cock jerked upwards towards his stomach. The underside of his cock bloated as a fresh rope of cum pushed through the elongated flesh of his sex. The immense testes jostled between his legs before jerking upward. His mouth gaped open in a silent roar. His lips pulled backwards revealing his wide teeth. A rope of white cum ejaculated from his gaping urethra with an undiminished power despite his earlier orgasms. The seed whipped across Emily’s face and chest. It was joined by another rope and another as his hands madly gripped his length. His cock jerked upwards painting the wall behind the bed as much as his wife. The ropes were quickly diminishing in volume but not force. Thick globs pooled between Emily’s rising and falling breasts and sloughed off her sides onto the bed. Emily gurgled as her head rolled sideways in a post-orgasmic stupor, barely aware of what was happening to her. 

Stan snorted triumphantly as he took in his efforts. He collapsed forward again, supported above Emily by his tensed arms. His huge cock hung over her, his dangling emptied balls pressed against the underside of his length. Remnants of his ejaculation drained from his gaping urethra onto his wife’s thighs. Even though his body was almost spent he still felt the gnawing need to mate. His cock was still erect and showed no signs of softening. The need still roiled through his loins and pressed against his hazy lust-addled mind. 

With a grunt he collapsed next to his near-passed out wife. The bed shook from the sudden impact of his weight. His wife’s body rolled against his side as his body compressed the foam almost down to the hard base it laid on. It didn't matter that he was laying on the congealing sticky contents of his balls smeared over the sheets. Rolling over, his six and half-foot height pushed against Emily’s pale bare flesh. His balls rolled over his lower thigh as he spooned his wife. His hands easily encompassed the entirety of her breasts from behind. He squeezed her mammaries, her still-erect nipples pressing into his wide palms. His insistent erection pressed between her thighs as he used them to gently masturbate himself. Her bare leg-flesh wasn’t good enough. He wanted something hot and slick to sink himself into. He grunted as he tilted his hips upward and pushed his cock past the rise of his wife’s lower ass to his target. With a quiet whiney he prodded her yawning pussy lips before sinking himself back into Emily’s depths. Despite his near-constant work on her pussy she still felt tight around his engorged head as it guided the rest of his expansive cock.

“Stan…no… I can’t-” Emily quietly grunted at the intrusion but was too weak to resist as he pushed himself as deep as he could into her soaked and abused snatch. Stan began to weakly and slowly thrust, dragging her whole body across the sheets with every push of his hips. Emily was drifting in and out of consciousness as she let out small squeaks with every press of his tip against her cervix. 

Even as he thrust a great aching-tiredness filled his every bone and muscle. His eyes rolled loosely in their sockets as he struggled to keep his eyelids from closing. Stan couldn’t keep going. His thrusting slowed. Stan felt suddenly dizzy, verging on nauseous, like he was falling from a great height. He couldn't resist the tiredness. He huffed deeply once across Emily’s face, the air tussling her cum-whipped hair. The acrid-musky smell of his mating wafted through his nose as he thrust one last time. Stan buried his still turgid length deep in his wife just as the inky darkness took him.


	7. Chapter 7 - The Pills

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stan wakes up in his still-changing body. He has even more difficult changes ahead of him. But can he survive them?

Chapter 7 

\--------------

Stan drifted in and out of consciousness. His partially-functioning mind felt like it was pushing through sticky mud. He couldn’t find the willpower to fully wake. He was only partially aware that light was streaming through the window of their bedroom. It beckoned him to rise as it illuminated the backsides of his tightly closed eyes. 

“Mhmm…” he groaned. He could feel something sliding along his semi-rigid penis, exposing it to the cool air of the room. The hot flesh collapsed over his thigh as he rolled over in place. The darkness won as he faded quickly back into unconsciousness. 

The next time he was stirred awake he could hear raised voices and slamming cabinets. His ears weakly rose from atop his head as they instinctually aimed towards the sound. He knew he should understand what was being said but it all sounded muddled mess of noise to his sleep-encumbered 

mind. He was slowly becoming aware of his body’s general discomfort. His back ached and his muscles felt like they were being prodded in all the wrong places. The skin of his sides and back felt constricted in a way he couldn’t fully process. He pushed his long face deeper into the pillow as his legs kicked lightly below him to try to find a comfortable position on the bed. None of the discomforts were enough to rouse him as sleep took him again.

“ssttannn….ssstaannn….” 

The deep mud his mind trudged through as it processed the sounds slurred the mentions of his name to a crawl.

“STAN!” Emily shouted.

“Ahhh!” Stan woke with a deep snort through his large nostrils as his torso bolted upright. He felt like he was blind. The whole room looked blurry and unfocused as he rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands.

“Urghhh…what time is it?” He asked, his voice felt coarse and his throat tight. He was almost starting to feel how his whole body ached.

“Time to get up,” Emily said flatly from the doorway before disappearing down the hallway with an unfamiliar hard tapping noise accompanying her.

Stan could feel himself beginning to catch up to real-time. Fragments, bits and pieces of the night before streamed into his awareness. He scooted to the edge of the bed and put his legs over so that his feet touched the floor. He had to look twice as he couldn’t feel the floor beneath him at all. His toes had compressed together and were near-immobile as he tried to wiggle them to return sensation. 

He couldn’t help but look at himself, his cock hung limply atop his large balls. He could feel, without touching it that it hurt. Almost everything hurt. Wincing he tried to get up before collapsing back onto the bed. His legs felt too unsteady and his feet too numb to right himself so easily. Large patches of his pale skin felt like it was covered in constricting jagged plastic. He rubbed his inner thighs to try to alleviate the agitation that covered them. He gasped as soon as his fingers touched his skin. 

The rough texture cracked and under his fingers. He looked down to realize that it was dried cum. His crotch was saturated in it. Some larger globs that had weaved themselves into his thin pubic hair were still glistening with wetness but the majority had caked onto him and dried there. 

“Oh…oh no…” Stan moaned as he tried to rub the flaking glue-like film that had dried over his irritated skin. He accidentally grazed his flaccid length which caused him to wince. But instead of pleasure he felt a dull pain course through him. He muffled a cry as the over-taxed nerves of his sensitive flesh rebuffed him. He was partially relieved that the touch hadn’t triggered another episode like the shower or…last night.

As he methodically rubbed and peeled the dried cum from his body he tried to put the pieces of the preceding night together. The more he tried to remember the more he could only piece together the feelings of his cock sinking deep into Emily. He remembered moans and thrusting… and sounds. Sounds that no human could make. He had never felt so out of control with his wife before. More memories of feeling so strongly that he needed to sink himself into her. It felt like it was his only prerogative. The feelings felt distant and alien to him now in the surprisingly-bright light of day, like they belonged to somebody…something else. It didn't feel like any of that could be him, but he knew it was.

Finally clearing enough of the cum off of himself he attempted to stand again. On wobbly legs he staggered forward, his hand used the wall for support and guidance as he took a step and then another. He felt like he was playing “the floor is a Dalton sewage pit” like he did with his kids when they were younger as he used every hand-hold he could reach to push himself towards the bedroom door. Every muscle, every bone hurt. He powered through the pain as best he could. He had to stop several times to catch his breath and let the hurt subside enough for him to continue on. He glanced at the pile of clothes he had pulled out the previous day that was still strewn across the entrance to their small closet. He didn’t think he could reach them in his current state. If he leaned down he feared he may never stand up again.

“Emily…are the kids…still here?” He shouted, his voice cracking and catching in his throat as he made it to the doorway. He hoped they had all gone. He didn’t know how he was going to get dressed in his current state. Seeing their bedroom door was open he assumed that Emily had left it that way without fear that one of their children would stumble in on him.

“No…they left,” Emily replied dryly after a pause. Stan knew something was wrong by the tone in her voice. He heard the tapping noise again, it was coming from the other side of the house. He took a deep breath and staggered into the hallway. He had to keep looking down to make sure his feet were doing what he was telling them to. All the feeling in his toes was gone, probably for good. He felt exposed hefting himself through the hallway entirely naked, wads of cum still sticking to him. But he didn't know what else to do. His large balls jostled uncomfortably between his legs as his thighs pressed against their flesh. He didn't dare adjust them. His whole body felt so heavy on his bones. Stan willed himself to take each step forward. He wanted to shower but there was no way he was going to overextend their credit any further on his behalf.

He passed by his children’s rooms, their bunk beds were in a rushed disarray far beyond normal. Even Lilly’s normally well-made bed looked like she kicked off the sheets and just…left. He felt a terrible sinking feeling in his gut as he proceeded onward.

Emily came into view as he finally exited the hallway. She was wearing a long stained dress. She was busy dry-scraping breakfast plates into the recycler so that it could cobble-together new food cubes from the accumulated crumbs of their waste. He wanted to apologize to her again for whatever he did the night before. He knew he had lost control. He felt so stupid, so weak. He opened his mouth to speak but his eyes went wide as he took in the situation. 

“Are you injured Em? What's wrong?!” He fell forward as he stumbled across the room before catching himself on the edge of the dinner table. Emily was sporting a rusty metal crutch under her right armpit as she navigated the kitchen.

“It's nothing…” Emily looked away. Stan could tell she was trying to shield him from something. He didn’t want to think it but it could have been something he had done. He felt a growing and deep-seated anxiety that he couldn’t shake.

“Em, please…did you fall? Was it the G-streeters?” He asked rapidly, trying to find a reason for why she needed the apparatus. Any reason but the one that clawed at his heart.

“Y..yeah…the g-streeters, you know how they are,” she said as she looked back at him sadly. Stan knew she was lying and he could see it in her eyes that she knew that he knew. The truth of whatever he had done was too painful for either of them to confront or admit out loud. 

“I’m so sorry, I can’t…I can’t protect you,” Stan felt his face redden as his eyes began to tear up. He wanted so desperately to hug his wife but his death-grip on the table was all that was keeping him upright. He couldn’t risk falling into Emily in her current state. 

“It's…it's ok, you don’t have to do any more than you already are…I-“ Emily cut off as she looked away, wiping tears from her own eyes with her sleeve. 

“I put out your food and the pills,” she gestured with her head towards the table. Stan hadn’t noticed the three canisters lined up neatly along with two of the red pills sitting on top of the middle canister. Each one read “STAGE 2 - 23.5 KCAL” in bold letters just as the first.

“I read the directions they said you are already at stage two. You have to…” she trailed off. They both remembered what had happened last time. Stan felt a stabbing ache all over his already sore body at the remembrance of the pain. The smell of the food felt like it was still saturating his nose. He couldn’t help but wretch at the memory, his face twisting into a grimace. Stan’s stomach churned at the thought of eating more of the brown goo. Stan wanted to throw it all into the garbage. Acting on Ethan’s idea and running as far as they could. But it was an impossible dream now that he was on this road. He knew that. 

“Should I…take them later? I can wait,” He offered as he picked up the two small red pills in his hand. He looked at his wife expectantly, hoping she would give him an out.

“We have two weeks before the camp…” Emily said as tears welled in her eyes. 

“Take them, I know it's for us, no matter what happens. We can get through anything.” she assured him, parroting back his own words from the previous day. She selected one of the upturned cups she had scrubbed and unscrewed a small plastic container of what looked like filtered water. He couldn’t quite make it out from across the kitchen. She poured half of it in the cup and hobbled over to the table and set it in front of him. 

“Here, it will make it easier,” she smiled faintly, putting on a brave face. Stan winced, he felt her pain like it was his. Even after everything she still wanted to help him. He couldn’t bear to see his wife like this.

“Thanks honey,” he said as he picked the cup up. He wanted to tell her that they shouldn’t waste good water on him. But he didn't want to cheapen her gesture. 

Stan couldn’t help but flinch at the thought of what the pills may do as he placed the two capsules in his mouth and sipped from the cup. There was no sense in delaying the inevitable now. He sloshed the mixture around in his mouth momentarily before trying to swallow. His throat felt like it had closed up. He couldn’t get them down. He tried again. The water was quickly polluted by the bitter coating of the pills as Stan tilted his head quickly backwards. He couldn’t hold his breath much longer. He closed his eyes as he sloshed the contents of his mouth around again. With a pronounced and forceful gulp he managed to get the pills down. He could feel the small oblong capsules traveling down his throat, threatening to lodge themselves along its length, until they thankfully disappeared into his stomach.

Using the rest of the water to wash his tongue of the bitter taste of the pills he placed the cup on the table. The clear water tasted sweeter than he remembered. His stomach tensed like a fist at the sudden ingress of the liquid. He rubbed his abdomen as he felt the empty organ suddenly awaken. The churning he had felt before in his gut wasn’t pain…it was hunger. He could feel himself grow desperately, insatiably hungry as his stomach came alive and began to gurgle.

“Oh…hrrhnn…“ He groaned as he felt his abdomen buckle. He sucked in his already sunken stomach to try to alleviate the discomfort but it was no use.

“Is it happening already?” Emily asked with concern as Stan’s fingers gripped the edge of the table. She took a step back away from him. He could see how fearful she was of him now. That hurt more than the pain lancing through his belly.

“No…no, it's my stomach…I’m just hungry Em,” Stan gasped out. He was under-exaggerating by a mile. He was so hungry he felt sick. He had to sit down. Hastily finding a close-by chair he collapsed onto the rickety piece of furniture. His balls slapped the rough edge of the seat sending a shiver down his spine. He ignored it as best he could. The hunger was more pressing. Stan pulled the closest of the cans quickly towards him. Before he could crack open the lid Emily stopped him.

“Wait, I don’t know if you should. The instructions said to let the pills act first,“ Emily said with a deep concern in her voice as she set her hand on his bare shoulder. Stan looked up at her, his face scrunched in need. 

“It hurts Em, I’m scared,” he admitted, barely able to stop himself from ripping open the top of the canister that was so close he could almost taste it. Stan shook his head. He didn’t know where these thoughts or desires were coming from. This food wasn’t good, it was disgusting. None of this was him. It wasn’t. With clammy hands he released his grip on the canister and squeezed Emily’s hand on his shoulder. 

“They said they could void your contract if you didn’t follow the instructions,” Emily cautioned. “We can’t risk anything, we can’t risk anything,” she repeated for emphasis.

“I’m scared Em, you have no idea how much I want to…to eat this,” he directed his face back towards the canister. It felt like his body was going into withdrawal being this close to it and not consuming it. Despite his disgust at the thought of eating it the slurry again he remembered the sour-sweet acrid smell. The thought of it was making drool form in the corners of his mouth. Sweat pressed out of his forehead, dripping into his eyes. He shuddered as he felt more perspiration coalesce and drip down the length of his bare back. A tendril of drool leaked out of his mouth and settled onto the polished lid of the canister. Stan felt embarrassed as he wiped it away with his free hand and squeezed Emily’s hand harder.

“H..how long did they say the pills take?” He said, glancing back towards the heavy cylinders of goo despite himself. He wasn’t looking forward to the effects of the pills but the gnawing, desperate hunger for the canisters made him want to speed it up. Before Emily could answer Stan felt like somebody had punched him in the chest, forcing him to double over in the chair.

“urrrhh….hrrnngghh!!!” Stan cried out as he rocked the chair’s rickety cheap frame. His bare ass cheeks pressed hard into the depressed seat.

“Oh god, Stan. Hold on, honey. Just hold on…it will be over soon,” Emily said in a barely-contained panic. Her hand desperately tried to maintain its grip on his shoulder but his convulsions were too powerful. Stan’s mouth went agape, his arms wrapped around his sides to try to stabilize himself.

Retreating, Emily hobbled over to the sink to find something to help him. Dishes and drawers clanged and crashed as she furiously dug through cabinets. Stan felt his whole body convulse painfully again. The already worn muscles in his chest were stretching and snapping back over and over. 

“It hurts! EMILY!!! AHH!!! HRRGHH!!” He groaned with increasing urgency. Spittle sprayed from his mouth. His neck tensed hard as its tendons tightened like wire. He could feel the muscles thickening against his esophagus constricting his breathing. His spine pressed against the sweaty skin of his back as it audibly crunched and cracked. Bone ground on bone. It felt like his backbone was trying to dislodge itself from his body, its length shuddered between his shoulder blades. His head was being pushed higher off his shoulders by the thickening column of bone and muscle below it.

“My grrnnghhh back!!! My back it hurtsss….hugh…huhhh!!!” He screamed as the vertebrae at the base of his spinal column pushed against the area atop of his ass cheeks. Stan’s hands uselessly scraped at the ridges of his vertebrae. His arms couldn’t angle themselves properly to get to them in his distress.

Stan’s arms were forced to give up as his back suddenly was forced into a dramatic backwards arch with audible *crunch*. His breath had left him as excruciating pain lanced through every bone in his body. Even through the pain he could feel the extrusion of his spine as it pushed out of him, taking his flesh with it. It was small, barely an inch or two long but he could the freshly-created nub pushing into the closed back of the chair. His back wasn’t all that was changing. He could feel his insides moving, shifting, subtly but excruciatingly as his back finally released him. His body collapsed forward, his head almost slamming against the table before he was able to catch himself and loll backwards in a pained stupor. 

Emily hobbled back over to him as quickly as she could. She had a handful of painkillers, he recognized them immediately. They were the only regular meds they had access to. She tried to give them to him, to make his hands take them. Emily put her hands around his as she poured them into his shivering palm. He could feel how clammy her hands were. His eyes rolled in their sockets as he tried to focus. She was saying something to him but he couldn’t make it out over the throbbing pain coursing through every fried nerve in his body. The pills dropped through his fingers onto the floor. He didn't have the willpower or cognition at the moment to hold them let alone swallow them. Emily was bending down under the table to retrieve them. Stan felt his vision grow blurry as the muscles in his face began to seize up.

“HURRRHH!!!” he groaned as his face began to press outward. His voice undulated and vibrated through his rapidly rising and falling chest. The extending, snapping bones in his face temporarily cut off the airways to his flared, madly-huffing nostrils. Stan felt like he was being choked as he desperately tried to make up for their loss with heavy rapid breaths through his elongating mouth. The bridge of his nose was widening as it plowed its way from between his eyes to the top of his gasping mouth. 

“Uuhhhhh…MY FACETTHHH!!!” He groaned through his extending visage. He could see his nose extending further and further away from his eyes. His body convulsed again, his chest heaving outward before collapsing inward. His skull ached. It felt like the bone around his brain had grown too small for the organ as the pressure in his head became immense. 

He didn’t want Emily to see him like this. But he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t stop any of it. But as he thought of his kind, loving wife his thoughts of Emily began to distort and twist, even corrupting his embarrassment into something…carnal. He tried to fight it but the pounding in his head was too much to bear as he tried to steer the thoughts away. He only could think of thrusting into her deep tightness. Despite the roar of pain through his body, he could feel the pounding of hot blood begin pouring into his cock. His penis flopped upward from its resting place draped over his balls as it came quickly to attention. Every inch of his turgid length felt sensitive and painful as it jostled up and down and side to side with every convulsion of his body. He felt a moment of pleasure amidst the suffering as a solitary bead of milky pre-cum pushed out of the swollen mushroom-shaped tip. But it was short-lived as another seizure of his back drove the head of his penis into the underside of the table. 

Pain lanced through the length of his still-raw and chafed male hood. His mouth gaped open in pain, unable to even squeak out a groan. The agony caused him to choke on his own rapid and labored breathing. Even missing a single breath caused him to begin to cough violently, inducing internment sprays of spittle from his mouth as he panted urgently for air. Despite the breathing problems caused by his changing neck his hips were compulsively gyrating beneath him. His pelvis dragged his hard eleven-inch length along the underside of the table, leaving a streak of pre-cum in its wake.

The convulsing gyrations of his torso and hips were too much for the old chair to take as it creaked and then collapsed underneath him, sending him splayed across the hard floor. Emily cried out next to him, as surprised by the fall as he was. 

For a moment everything slowed down as he lay there on his side. The heavy sudden impact seemed to have dulled all the rest of the pain, if only for a moment. He looked at Emily, crouching under the table, clutching a white pill in her hand. Her eyes were wide with terror as she looked at him. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but the pain returned in force. The muscles in his thick neck tensed, forcing his head to whip upward. The excruciation that coursed through his pounding head was back with a vengeance.

His jaw cracked and pushed into the flesh of his face. It felt and sounded like the bones in his extending muzzle were grindstones being used to cut into his skull. His hands clasped his long nose as the airways to his nostrils opened up again, but larger and more cavernous than before. He cried out in pain as two parallel rolls of flat wide teeth pushed through his sensitive elongating gums. Stan clawed at his cheeks as they swelled with pulsing, bunching muscle under his pale skin.

Stan couldn’t stop grinding his still-growing teeth against each other. His mouth felt like it was filled with dozens of tooth-aches all at once. Stan’s head pounded like somebody was repeatedly hitting his skull with a hammer as every tooth seemed to have a direct wire to his pain receptors. It was all he could do to apply as much pressure as he could to keep from blacking out at the pain. The only reason he hadn’t passed out already was how fast his heart was beating in his chest.

Stan hardly noticed his rock-hard penis bobbing madly between his legs until the tip touched the floor. A shock of pleasure intermixed with the pain. Emily. He didn’t want…he couldn’t remember. The pounding was too strong. Wife. Mate. He wanted his mate. His mind was flooded with an unbridled lust. Stan couldn’t help but kick his legs against the ground underneath him. His lemon-sized balls squeezed and jostled between his thighs only making him kick harder. 

The bones in his feet were cracking and lengthening with every powerful kick. The nails of his numb toes began to turn black as they thickened, pushing out small beads of blood between the root of the nail and the darkening keratin. For every excruciating bone-crunching inch his feet lengthened his shins were shortening, his calf muscles bunching as they loosened and then grew taught again. His body was thinning, being sucked inward. His ribs pressed painfully into his skin as his chest collapsed becoming gaunt as the changes ate away at his insides for fuel. 

“NEEIIGHHH!!!” Stan roared, his head rearing upwards as his back convulsed and his cock smacked the floor at the same time. His hands gripped his long nose like a vice as he ejaculated a small spurt of watery cum from the tip of his tool. He urgently wanted, needed, to release more but his body had no more to give. The pain and pleasure were mixing, becoming something confusing and overwhelming. Stan’s hands released his face as they needfully squeezed the base of his cock. His grasping fingers were no help as his sex dryly orgasmed over and over between his legs. 

“HRRNNN!!!” He moaned in desire, his ears pinned against the top of his head. He didn’t understand where his mate was. His angry swollen length shuddered as his empty balls squeezed ineffectually in their tight sac. Mate. He wanted to breed. No. No, it wasn’t right. Self-awareness flooded back in for a moment. She was…his…wife. Small tears formed in the corners of his eyes as he tried to fight through the animal he was becoming. 

But as he wrestled for control Stan’s hips couldn’t stop pushed his length into his grasping hands, causing him to shudder in pleasure. The shocks of desire eroded the single grain of willpower he had summoned. The beast inside him used the opportunity to fight back. Mate. Breed. The need overwhelmed him again and despite the pain he thrust himself as far outward as his hips would allow to show off his male-hood. Every throbbing spasm of his heavy tool felt rapturous and agonizing as it heaved beneath his fingers. But he hardly cared that he was unable to lubricate its long urethra with even another drop of cum. The lust felt all-consuming. After what felt like an eternity Stan felt the waves of his climax gently ebb. His excruciating changes had stopped somewhere among the seemingly endless and excruciating orgasm. 

Rolling onto his back Sam spread his legs apart and lay there, staring up at the ceiling from the kitchen floor breathing hard through his mouth. His wide nostrils took up breathing duty every time the feeling of air hurt his newly developed teeth. The pain of his dehydrated and emaciated body pushed the lust down until it was barely a whisper in the back of his mind. His agitated and still subtly heaving cock arched against his stomach as his balls nestled between his legs. His head was pounding and his still lightly-spasming back felt like it had been broken in several places. 

“Stan, are you…you?” Emily asked with trepidation somewhere above him, out of his vision.

Stan blinked, the throbbing in his head was starting to subside. His still-pinned ears popped upward to triangulate where Emily was speaking from. He dared not move a single muscle as he lay there, fully exposed on the kitchen floor. Stan swallowed dryly as he tried to clear his throat. It still felt like it was obstructed by whatever had happened to his neck. 

“Y..yeah…I think so,” Stan groan-whispered. He didn't know if he even believed that. It felt like something more fundamental, more terrifying, than his body was changing. He let out a small cough, causing his chest to spasm enough to send shocks of pain throughout the charred-remains of his nerves. 

“I don't think we will be dancing anytime soon,” he managed to wheeze out accompanied by a forced-chuckle. He tried to crack a smile but even that hurt. His lungs burned and his throat was parched, even now it felt like somebody had their hands around his neck. He didn't want Emily to worry, he was sure it was all part of the process. He had to trust Inglestoff knew what they were doing. Despite the assurances of the rational part of his mind he felt like he was fading laying on the floor spread eagle as he was.

“Oh god Stan, don’t laugh, you are hurting yourself,” Emily said with a deep concern in her voice, not indulging in the joke. Figuring out where Emily was talking to him from Stan craned his head all the way backwards with a pained grunt. His head felt uncharacteristically heavy as it tilted upside-down, flipping the room. It was making him more than a little nauseous. The floor was the ceiling and the ceiling was the floor. To add to his discomfort he noticed the long bridge of his nose that dominated the lower half of his vision. He winced his eyes closed for a moment to rebalance himself. When he opened them again he saw that Emily was standing above him, clutching one of the canisters against her chest. The rusty metal crutch had fallen to the floor near her feet.

“This isn’t right, none of this is right,” she cried, her eyes transfixed on him. 

“I know its hard but-“ Stan tried to interject. 

“Stan, you look like you’re…like you’re dying,” she sputtered out. They had all seen enough death in their lives to know what it looked like. He didn’t question that but the pain had subsided to a dull thrum if he didn't move. He didn’t know how anything could be more wrong than what he had just been through, and he survived that. 

“Wait, slow down,” Stan tried to calm her. His gaunt arms rose before collapsing back down to his sides, too weak and painful to hold themselves aloft. 

“You’re starving…I…you need to eat. You need to eat this right now,” she sobbed as she hugged the can even tighter, fumbling with the lid.

“No, no its ok, I’m…I’m not even hungry anymore,” Stan tried to assure her, his voice no more than a whisper. It was the truth, he didn’t feel any of the hunger pains he had experienced earlier. In fact almost almost all the pain had gone away. It was over. He could rest.

“Please honey, if you could see yourself-” she was cut off as she suppressed a sudden and silent wretch. She had opened the canister and almost doubled over. Stan didn’t know what the fuss was about. He just needed rest was all. He felt so tired. His eyes were growing heavier by the moment.

“Don’t go to sleep Stan! Hold on, just hold on,” Emily said in panic as she caught her breath and hobbled quickly over to him. Kneeling down in front of his face with a pained groan she set the canister next to his head. Stan found it odd that he couldn’t smell the contents despite his wife’s reaction.

“Don’t worry, I’m fine….” Stan began to nod off, the darkness felt welcoming, a sanctuary from the pain that still buzzed through his body. 

Stan’s eyes grew fuzzy and unfocused as he felt small hands repositioning his head upwards so that his nose faced the ceiling. 

“Emily…I’m fine…fine…” he weakly choked out. His ears were ringing, louder and louder with no distinct noise to cause it.

Stan felt Emily’s hands pry open his deep mouth moments before a huge dollop of creamy goo forced its way between his front teeth. He was too weak to resist as it slimed its way down his long tongue to the back of his throat. It was all he could do to swallow as it forced its way slowly down his constricted esophagus. As he wheezed in a goo-tinged breath he felt another dollop of the goo worm its way down his throat. The cycle continued over and over. He was fading in and out of consciousness like he had that morning as the goo began to coat his esophagus. 

The tensed neck muscles supporting his head upright gave way suddenly. He could feel hands against his swollen cheek trying to push his heavy head back up but it was no use. Stan’s head collapsed sideways with a thud. His limp tongue rolled out of his mouth, saturated in the brown sludge. His breathing was shallow and non-uniform. His eyes rolled towards the back of his skull in their sockets. Even his drool was saturated with the goo as it leaked out of the corner of his listing mouth. Through the buzzing noise in his ears he could hear crying. He could feel somebody cradling him. His last coherent thought before the darkness took him was “Emily”.


	8. The Guest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can Stan recover from the brink? Can the price he his paying be worth it?

Chapter 8 - The Guest

\--------------

Stan lay there on his side, drifting between life and a deep, seemingly endless oblivion. Rough edges of images flickered through his mind, flashes of their children, of his father. It would only take a small push to plummet him over the edge into the gaping crevasse from which there was no return. He began falling towards the pit. His faintly beating heart slowed beneath his extruded ribs.

Just as the darkness began to overtake him he was suddenly bungeed upward. Stan’s back spasmed as he gasped for air through his goo-constricted throat. His eyes shot open as a shock of pure-adrenaline coursed through his blood. The erratic beating of his overworked heart was replaced by a rapid and powerful drum thumping in his emaciated chest. 

“Hrrrrghhh!” He moaned weakly as his long tongue slowly drew its way back into his mouth, past his wide teeth. The coldness permeating his body was being gradually replaced by a growing heat. He attempted to swallow in more air, but instead only managed to push more of the putrid goo that had collected in his esophagus down his throat. He sputtered and coughed violently as he struggled to breathe through the smell now filling his mouth and nostrils. It was only then that he became aware that hands were holding the underside of his face, keeping his head from listing sideways.

The heat swirled beneath his chest as the flesh of his collapsed stomach began to swell and fill out. The ribbons of muscle throughout his body soaked up the heat like a sponge, each growing fuller and stronger under his stretching clammy skin. His eyes felt too big for his skull as they rolled in their sockets at the sensation. His tongue came alive in his mouth, the muscle unsuccessfully trying to expunge the disgusting-tasting goo from the spaces between his wide molars. His heart beat faster and more insistent as his chest began to swell outward, overtaking his rib cage once again with a thin layer of fat and muscle.

The smell and taste of the creamy brown sludge were inescapable. He spat and snorted trying to expunge it but it was futile. It was everywhere. He heard somebody speaking above him but he couldn’t piece together the words. The whole world felt like it was filled with a burning light. The sensations of the brown ichor were only getting more intense with the growing fire in his body. His rough tongue was becoming saturated with the taste of rotten-fruit and soured cheese as he attempted to extricate the goo from the crevices of his mouth.

“Urrrhhhh!!!” He moaned as the acrid decayed taste began to change in his mouth and rapidly huffing nostrils. Just as it had the day before it was becoming something savory, approaching sweet. His tongue quickly went from trying to expel the goo to lapping it up, more and more greedily. Stan blinked as his eyes began to stabilize in his long skull. He looked upward through the slowly clearing haze and made out a blurry figure above him. Its hands were massaging the top of his skull. It hurt to focus his eyes, they watered as he blinked. 

The figure washed into and out, it was a woman. His ears perked as even their tired muscles became newly invigorated. She was crying softly. He knew her, but for that moment… he couldn’t remember. His mind felt muddled, confused like somebody had rearranged where everything was. His nostrils flared as he took in her scent. It was so familiar, but he couldn’t place it. Stan felt like he was fighting to dredge memories from the dark pit that he had just been rescued from. A new surge of heat weaved its way through his body making him gasp. His ears pinned themselves against his head as the fatty tissue in his thighs and calves swelled. The fire was burning away the darkness. His eyes bolted open as he finally remembered.

“E…Emmm,” he moaned as the edges of his wife came into view. How could he forget his beautiful wife? He didn’t feel like himself. Like he was trapped in another person's body, his mind fighting itself for even the most basic of recollections. He hardly had time to admonish himself as Emily wrapped herself around his long muzzle. Stan felt like he was being smothered as his body jerked under her embrace. He could feel tightness along the entirety of his muzzle as he gasped for air.

“Stan….” Emily said as she broke off her hug, leaving him wheezing and snorting for air. The heat in his chest was getting worse, unable to be extinguished so easily again.

“Y…you’re alive!” She sobbed, her voice was becoming clearer and more coherent to his scooped-ears by the moment. 

“Oh god Stan, look what they did to you…Can…can you understand me?” She asked plaintively, holding the sides of his face again with her hands. Stan looked up and her and nodded his head. The pain and weight of his body were rushing back in as the fire melted away the numbness. 

“Whathhh…whathhh happenthhh…” Stan was able to weakly force out through his hoarse throat. His long muzzle wasn’t making words well again. It felt like he had too many teeth and too much muscle bunched into far too small a space around his tongue.

“I don’t know, you…I think you almost-“ Emily cried above him in relief. He couldn’t help but wince as he felt small wet tears splash on his cheeks from above.

Stan opened his mouth to reply but felt a powerful convulsion in his stomach like it was folding in over itself. He couldn’t suppress a low animalistic neigh as his weak hands grasped his abdomen. The taste of the rotten-sweet goo was still saturating his mouth. The more he licked it dryly from his teeth the more his stomach gurgled. His whole body felt so hot. 

“Puhlease…I neeth…m..moarrr,” he moaned. He was awake enough now to realize what he was asking for and what it would do. But it felt like he would die without it. He needed it. He needed it so badly that he felt small tears wince from the corners of his mouth. He hated how much he wanted it. But he couldn’t ignore what his body was asking for.

“Y…yes, of course! More, we have more,” Emily said flustered above him as he heard the metal clank of the spoon sinking into the container of viscous ooze. Stan couldn’t help but tilt his head towards the tin in expectation. Even though every muscle in his thickened neck screamed with the effort he needed the goo more. 

Emily gingerly brought a small dollop of the ooze to his mouth and he greedily consumed it, his tongue and lips licking the spoon clean in seconds. She hastily withdrew the spoon and brought another to his lips which he slurped down even more quickly. The taste was wavering between rot and ambrosia as it filled him. 

“Muhhhrrr!!” he moaned between breaths, his chest was rising and falling rapidly. The heat was getting worse by the second, fueled by the goo but he couldn’t stop. Stan moaned as his back began to widen. His shoulder-blades pushing against the muscles of his back as they grew too large for his frame. Emily seemed to pick up on his urgency as she brought larger and larger heaping spoonfuls to his mouth as fast as she could. The more he ate the sweeter and more delicious it got. His nostrils were flaring as he breathed harder. 

It wasn’t enough. As Emily brought up the next spoonful he grabbed the utensil and roughly wrestled it from Emily’s hand. His tongue circled the small spoon, easily bending its cheap metal as he sucked it like a lollipop before spitting it out unceremoniously across the floor. 

“MURRRR!!! EMILEEEHINNY!!!” His screams turned into a bestial whiney. Stan couldn’t help but thrust his hips into the air as the bones in his pelvis thickened and broadened underneath him. Despite the changes wracking his body couldn’t help but cry for the mixture. The heat was so bad, he felt like his blood was on fire. 

“Do… you want the whole can?” Emily asked meekly but urgently above him. His whole body was heaving now as Emily shakily hefted the still-heavy canister above his head. Stan wasted not a single second to grab the canister from her and bury his long nose into its contents. His arms burned from the exertion as he lapped at the vicious goo with a wild abandon. The bones in his forearms were distending as he held the canister aloft, threatening his tenuous grip. Despite the scorching pain he couldn’t stop eating. He was beyond ravenous.

Stan could feel his insides changing, reshuffling and swelling as he ate. But for the first time, it didn’t hurt. It felt…strangely good. He knew that every change was taking him further away from his human self. Further from his family. He could tell his heart was growing stronger with every urgent beat of the muscle in his ears. The roiling blood coursing through his arteries was moving faster and more forcefully. His skin prickled as its pale expanse, stretched far too thin over his distended body, began to thicken and tighten around his sides. 

“hhuurrrRRRRR!!!” He moaned as a shock of pleasure lanced through the hunger, forcing him to temporarily pull the can away from his face. He nickered lustily, his lips flapping open, revealing his teeth as he felt pleasurable pinching stabs in the flesh of his testicles. His hips lifting into the air again as he felt his already large lemon-sized balls swell between his legs. 

“EMILEEE…hurrr…helphhh growhuuuing…” he slurred out. He looked plaintively at his wife through lust-bleared eyes. His body felt like it was splitting open. The hot flesh of his twin spheres pushed insistently into his inner thighs. Spittle, saturated with brown goo, flew from his mouth as his body thrashed. The heat in his blood coursed through the tightening skin wrapped around the orbs as they grew heavier and sank deeper between his legs. 

“WHInneEYYYyyyy!!” His voice cracked as he bellowed, undulating between a high-pitched whine and a deep throaty roar. Stan could feel his throat thickening, burrowing deep into his body, pushing against the swell of muscles encircling his neck. Stan let out another moan of pleasure, his voice had lowered almost a full octave as it rumbled through his broad chest. 

His grasping hands released the tin, unable to fight the urge to touch himself. The weighty half-full canister glanced off the side of his long nose before clattering loudly as it impacted the floor and rolled to rest somewhere nearby. Stan’s hands were too busy groping the aching flesh of his testicles for him to care.

“Cuh…can’t stop! Hurrrrhh!! HURRR!!!” He let out a series of lusty nickers as the swelling expanse of his testes pressed more and more insistently into his palms. He didn’t want Emily to see him like this but his need was too great. The cleft between his balls was deepening as the skin around them struggled to accommodate their increasing girth and weight. Stan shuddered as they were pulled upward towards the base of his cock, unable to find room to expand in any other direction. He squeezed and kneaded his balls as the ache in them grew worse.

“FFURRCKKK…HAHH!!!” The pleasure of his own touch arced through his pelvis. His previously limp and deflated seven-inch cock began to throb as it filled with the roiling mixture in his veins. The flaccid tool jumped atop his testicles. The pale skin of his cock’s length quickly turned red as veins pulsed along its growing length. Fueled by the heat his cock was soon near fully-erect, nine inches of his male-hood bobbing pointing into the air. He snorted lustily as he released his right ball and gripped the base of his still-engorging cock with the freed hand. The feeling of the large testicle succumbing to gravity and dropping in its overly-tight sac made him throw his head backward in pleasure. He squeezed the base of his cock tightly, making the veins bulge along its length. 

His head pressed tightly against the hard kitchen floor as he nickered and grunted. His hand still firmly secure around the thick girth of his now fully-erect eleven-inch penis. Its substantial weight causing it to flex forward and backward despite the stabilization of his grasping hand. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the canister, dripping brown goo onto the floor as it lay on its side. Even as he began to madly drag his hand up and down the length of his tool and squeeze his left ball he tried to reach the spreading puddle with his tongue. But it was frustratingly too far for him to reach. 

“UHH!!! UHNNN!!! MURRR!!!” He bellowed as his hips did their best to help grind his groin into his hands. His whole body squirmed, unwilling to release his male-hood to use his hands to get closer to the canister. Stan let out a series of frustrated huffs, dilating his nostrils in the process as his body wiggled and inched agonizingly towards the goo. His long tongue was sticking out his mouth reaching towards the upturned goo in vain. His nose was filled once more by the decaying sugary taste in the air. His legs kicked underneath him but they found no purchase. His toes were sliding across the floor. He needed the goo. He needed it badly.

His teeth ground against each other as a slick spurt of pre-cum began to push out of the tip of his cock. The slick liquid had no time to form a glistening pearly-bead atop his engorged head before the eleven-inches flopping madly underneath it tossed it into the air. Stan moaned as he felt the hot excretion land on his bare pelvis and abdomen. 

The desperation for the goo was growing so great not even the skewering pain in his back or the pleasurable waves from his masturbation could stop him. With a concerted effort, Stan rolled over, forcing him to extricate his hands from his groin. He got shakily up onto his hand and knees as he made his way towards the canister. His huge cock dangled between his legs, leaving a trail of pre-cum in his wake. His balls, now the size of two small ripe oranges, were so large that they forced his legs slightly apart as he crawled. The sensation of his flesh rubbing and compressing his sac made his cock jump between his legs. 

“FURACKK…AAHH!!! HURRR!!!” He moaned. The muscles in his neck strained as his painfully erect tool ejected several large stringy dollops of pre-cum. The slick clear lubricant traced wetly to the floor before his gulping penis tip resumed its steady drip of the fluid.

Stan crawled onward. The need for the goo didn’t dampen the ache permeating his body from the pills. Every clasping hand pulling him forward was excruciating but the only thing he could look at was the putrid goo. He finally managed to get close enough to lick the spilled brown vicious mixture off the floor. But before he could lean down to gulp up the putrid mixture he heard his wife’s voice.

“Stan…please no, this isn’t you. You have to stop…you have to control it,” Emily cried from somewhere nearby. Her plea cut through his pounding head. Stan struggled to push down the hunger and lust that filled his body. He looked up at her, down the long expanse of his animalistic nose. Stan felt a twist in his gut as his wife came into view. She was huddled against the kitchen counter, visibly shaking. It hurt his heart to see her like this. He wanted so desperately to reach out to her, to tell her that he was still in the monster he was becoming.

“Em..uh..leee, donhhh…look, don’t look at muhhh,” he said slowly through deep heaving breaths. His mouth was moving better now but it was taking all his willpower to not dive into the pungent goo tantalizing close to his hands or grab his aching penis. He felt like the thought of his wife having to watch him change was going to break what little of himself was left.

He lifted a shaking arm to reach out to her but his body nearly crumpled on itself at the effort. His remaining arm, planted firmly as it was, was insufficient support for his frame. He snorted in the air as the aching need in his loins grew worse by the moment. He was hot. So hot. And the hunger. Oh god, the hunger. He pushed the feelings down again but wasn’t sure how long he could keep them at bay. 

“Pulease… Emileeeee!!! Changing…meee….Can’t-” He moaned as his tight balls hitched pleasurably against his thighs. Despite his efforts to ignore it, he could smell her sex even across the room. Carnal thoughts flooded into his mind faster than he could suppress them. His eyes rolled in his head as the pleasure overtook him. Mate. Sex. The simple but powerful thoughts pushed at his consciousness. 

“EMILEEEE!!! HURRR…FFUCCKKHHH!!!” He nickered as he ground his hips forward, thrusting his cock upward before its substantial weight wobbled it backward. A series of lusty moans escaped his gasping mouth at the sensation. Small tears winced out of his eyes as his willpower failed. He thrust again, his newly swollen balls slapped his thighs and the root of his tool driving him wild.

His head craned downward and his mouth began to ravenously consume the puddle of goo. He couldn’t stop thrusting his hips, again and again, picking up speed like he was breeding an invisible mate. The pre-cum spurting and whipping from his cock was thickening and growing more voluminous as it pushed through his turgid insistent length. He could hear it splattering wetly somewhere below him but he didn’t care. He had to get the pungent mixture into his body. 

Stan was only forced to stop his attack on the contents of the drum for a few moments as bones in his back thickened or cracked into new positions. His toes were fully fusing together behind him as the dark-black nails atop them grew thicker by the moment. His feet were stretching longer as well and becoming bonier as large knuckles of muscle and swelling cartilage formed just above his keratin-oozing toes. 

His fingers grasped at the hard dirty floor as they swelled and filled out. His knuckles cracked and crunched below him. The crunching and extending of the bones in his fingers sent dull arcs of pain that wound their ways through his arms. But instead of the sharp, stabs of agony that had wracked his body earlier the pain felt… muted, distant. By contrast, the pleasure of his jutting cock and roiling balls against his undercarriage was near-overwhelming as it crashed through his undulating body.

Just as Stan’s nose hit the metal bottom of the can and began to hungrily lick the contents still clinging to the crevices and ridges he felt his cock stiffen and swell even further. Before he could extricate his nose from the tin he felt his heavy balls pull up towards his groin and his cock harden like granite below him. The pleasure crested like a wave reaching its peak.

“WWHINNEYY!!!” He cried out from inside the can, his own deepened voice reverberating through the metal, vibrating his jaw. His ears pinned themselves hard against his head. His cock’s swollen mushroom-shaped head puckered as it let loose a thick column of yellow-white jism. The heat felt like it was burning him from the inside. His whole body bucked, dragging the can across the floor as he came again. His nostrils were huffing in the scent of the inside of the canister as he ground himself forward against an invisible mate. The thick heavy muscle between his legs convulsed as it spat out another powerful gale of steaming-hot jism. The swell of his balls jiggled as they were pulled upwards towards his groin before being pulled back down by their heaviness.

He let out a neigh, his eyes rolling in their sockets as he felt the whole of his length tense hard before it began to push out from his body. He came just as his cock’s throbbing flesh extended another excruciating inch outward. The tip of his penis was precariously close to touching the fan of still-steaming cum spread below it. He had to touch himself. The need pounded through his skull, tearing at his rationality. He reared upward onto his haunches, taking the can with him, still firmly locked onto his muzzle. 

It barely registered to him that the canister was still encircling his wide nose. Only the pleasure coursing through his every nerve mattered. His cock whipping upward, almost slapping his stomach with its weight as his balls slapped the floor. His still-changing and growing hands, now freed from supporting his body, madly masturbated and massaged his growing tool. The girth of his penis pulsated and convulsed beneath his fingers to match its new length. His large hands were able to fully grasp its circumference for only a moment before it swelled in his grasp, forcing them apart again.

“NUURRHHH!” He moaned. His neck strained as tip of his urethra puckered and gaped open as it grew wider. Stan could feel his urethra burrowing through his now foot-long tool, forcing the strong muscles along its length to spread. He felt the thing under his taint compress and pulse again like a beating drum. The pleasure caused by the pulses was so powerful that his head craned skyward. His balls heaved between his legs as a fresh column of cum pushed through his new widened track before arcing wetly into the air and landing with a series of wet splats across the floor in front of him. Stan couldn’t stop masturbating madly, trying to wring every last drop of pleasure from his immense cock. 

The tip of his penis swelled around his gaping pee-hole, the growing muscle fought against his wet urethra until it was forced closed. It stayed puckered like that for an agonizing, seemingly endless, time. He thrashed on his haunches before his urethra was forced open by a fresh scalding column of semen. All twelve inches of his length jutted upward against his stomach as he came. The orgasm felt like it would never end. 

Cum splashed against his chest. The sticky wet fluid felt like it was burning his skin. It was so close he could almost taste his salty jism on his tongue. His orange-sized balls dragged against the floor below him sending shocks of pleasure up his arching spine. Stan grunted as he managed to coax two more small ropes of cum from his shuddering tool. The empty canister fell from his face as the orgasm continued to roll through him. 

He sat there, holding himself as cum dripped from his cock, its length rapidly softening in his grip. He huffed and snorted in satisfaction, the lust temporarily satiated as it lowered to a gentle simmer in the back of his mind. His whole body felt…good. The pain was still there but diminished, not enough for him to even pay attention to when he could feel such ecstasy. The need was still boiling through his mind enough that he couldn’t stop his hands from massaging and squeezing his drooping cock. The feeling of the heavy still-throbbing flesh in his hands felt too good to withdraw.

As his body calmed his wide chest rose and fell with deep breaths. His heart slowed, its insistent beating draining from his sensitive ears. Stan felt the heat begin to drain from his body as he glanced hungrily at the other two canisters that still sat on the table. Then he remembered his wife, Emily. He could still hear her breathing fast, her heart was racing. The smell of her intermixed with the pungently salty smell of his jism splattered across the floor. 

He knew she saw…everything. There was no hiding what he had just done or what he was becoming. Unable to bring himself to look at her directly he got shakily to his feet. The monster was out and growing stronger with every passing minute. He stumbled forward, collapsing onto all fours, jostling his testicles between his thighs before trying again. Using the table as leverage he managed to stand on the tips of his wide monstrous toes. He felt too tall, too high off the ground like he was on stilts. He tried to take a hesitant step and began to fall again.

Emily rushed forwards, trying to catch him before his weakened arms arrested his descent. He felt her arms around his midriff, her skin was cold and sweaty against the hot thickened epidermis that now wrapped his torso. Stan couldn’t help but wince at the touch, he wanted desperately to push her away. He didn’t want her to have to hold what he was becoming. 

“No, puhlleeth…don’t help. I’m a monster…Em” he slurred. His tongue felt too big for his mouth again. He writhed in her grip trying to extricate himself but she was holding him too tightly. Stan took a deep breath and forced himself to look at her. Her head was a good bit lower than his now as he had to crane his neck downward with a series of sickening cracks. 

“No…no you’re my Stan. You’re my husband…and…and a father,” Emily sputtered into his side. She looked up at him with puffy red eyes and tear-stained cheeks as she reached up to stroke the side of his face. Stan pulled his head away from her touch, he didn’t want her to feel how much his face had changed.

“Em..I… I’m not…I’m not that p..person…I’m not even human…” his large hand fully-encompassing hers as he pulled her arm away from his face.

“No, you’re wrong. No matter what they do to you, you’re my Stan. Remember that. Please, Stan, you have to remember that,” Emily pleaded as he released her hand. Emily desperately hugged him as she buried her head against his side. It took Stan longer than he cared to admit to return the hug. He knew he didn’t deserve it. 

He took a step backward to try to break away from her. The keratin that coated the tips of his feet slipped on the slick pre-cum and semen that splattered the floor. He grunted as his weight began to list backward, taking Emily with him. He hugged her tightly trying to protect her from the fall as his body crashed through another one of their chairs. The pain of the splintering plastic beneath him felt like nothing compared to what he had already endured.

Stan was prone on his back again. Emily lay atop him, her thin frame felt so fragile and light. But even so, the compression of her body against his loins was beginning to surface and stir the lust he had just conquered back to the surface. Stan moaned as he fought the desire to grind her body against himself. Bury his length deep inside of her as deep and as hard as he could. He shook his head to clear the thoughts as he tried to push her off before it was too late. 

“ORANGE. ARRRIEN. FFFFIIIVEE-THIRTEEN SRRIJGITJK!!!” The house computer blared suddenly at maximum volume, interrupting the surging need in Stan’s loins. His ears pinned themselves against his head to protect their sensitive innards from the aural onslaught. 

“What's happening?!?” Emily cried out from atop him as bolted upright, straddling his chest with her legs. All the lights in their home began to shimmer and blink on and off as the automated doors began to open and close wildly. 

“WALL STJZTJZ WIRING SEVENNNN NINEeeee….” The house computer fizzled out as the lights blinked off and left them in near-darkness, save for the pale light streaming through the few small windows. 

Emily managed to extricate herself from atop him as she hobbled over to the windows above the sink. Stan did his best to right himself as well but his feet kept slipping on the minefield of slick liquids. The ground began to rumble underneath them as the wind howled outside. Plastic bags and packing materials pinned themselves to the outside of their windows as the rumble grew louder and closer. It sounded like the roar of jet turbines but it was far too close. Their house felt like it was shaking apart as crates crashed to the ground. Their precious collection of glass jars began to shatter as they jiggled off their rickety shelves. Emily did her best to race to collect the rest before they met a similar fate. 

There was yelling outside, Stan could hardly make it out over the rumble as even larger pieces of trash were flung at their windows. He could hear it impacting the sides of their prefab house like mighty hammer strikes. Even with his heightened senses, he couldn’t make out anything through the rumbling and the swirling gale outside. Emily was screaming something above the din but it was unintelligible. Stan was doing everything in his power to remain upright, there was no way he could reach her. As he attempted to inch towards her one of the living room windows broke inwards sending a spiral of trash careening into their home. The world felt like it was ending.

Just as the rumbling felt like it would destroy their home it subsided into a faint roar. The forceful wind outside calmed as the trash plastered against their small window portholes hesitantly fell away. Stan struggled to make his way to a window to see what had happened. But before he could approach the small high-up opening he heard a clamoring at the front door. 

“It can’t be Dalton, we still have two weeks!” Emily yelled across the house.

“HIDE!!!” He bellowed at Emily. Somebody was coming in. With feet that felt like they were made of ice he stumbled towards the door, trying his best to find something, anything, he could use as a weapon. He had to protect Emily. He had to protect his mate. He huffed through his nostrils as his cock began to inflame, but not in lust but anger. The door was being forced open as its gears squealed on the metal tracks.

“Hurghh!!!” He heard a deep unfamiliar voice grunt along with the twisting of labored servos. The door gave way as it flew into its wall-pocket with enough force to bend the railings that held it in place. Light streamed through the opening, illuminating their darkened home. Stan felt his cock jump as its flesh grew harder with every breath. He had to fight. He felt powerful hormones wash over him as his muscles tensed under his skin, ready to strike. 

An imposingly tall figure walked through the doorway, silhouetted by the light outside. Stan couldn’t make out the shape of it but he could see pin-pricks of artificial light adorning its head and body. He didn’t think as his legs tensed and pushed backward, catapulting his body recklessly towards it. Spittle flew from his mouth as he confronted the stranger. His huge angry erection flopped madly between his legs, straining outward like it wanted to spear the intruder on its own. To his surprise, the figure caught his hands mid-air and pressed him back with impossible strength. The figure didn’t even stagger a step backward as all of Stan’s weight and body pressed against the intruder. Servos whined as Stan’s strength failed. He felt pricks of sharp pain on the backs of his hands as the figure held him in place with ease. 

“How are we looking in there Blue?” A voice called from outside the door. 

“Assessing, one moment,” the figure said wryly as the lights on its head panned up and down Stan’s body before pushing him back onto his shaky feet. Stan lost control and fell backward only catching himself on a column for support.

“Alive? Both of them?” The voice asked, unbelieving, from outside. The voice sounded human, a woman. Lights flashed across the face of the figure as it scanned his body. He could feel a strange warmth moving over him as the figure's face traced his nakedness.

“Let me send in some light,” the voice outside said as a dozen small silent drones flew in past the figure and spread themselves around the room. Stan was dazed as the room flashed into sudden illumination, each drone shining more brightly than their house lights. He blinked as he looked up at the figure, his eyes adjusting to the intensity of the glare. 

Stan was ready to lunge at the figure again but his coiling muscles stopped mid-tense under his skin. His eyes went wide as he saw the tall figure, now exposed by the light. It was something monstrous. Not unlike what he was becoming. Its long sinewy legs were more like an animal than a person’s. He gasped as he saw a long bushy tail peeked behind the stranger. 

It was wearing so much armor that he couldn’t tell more than that save for its thick muzzle poking out from the angled helmet that sat over its eyes. Its whole body was adorned with black interwoven tactical-looking plates. A triangular green Inglestoff logo adorned the right breast of the armor. Tufts of dark blue fur poked through the seams at the neck and arms. Its thick gloved fingers were capped with shorter black claws than its feet but looked just as vicious. 

Lights flickered underneath the armor as the thing walked further inside, scanning the room. The claws adorning its large exposed feet clacked, almost metallically, against the floor. Triangular fur-tufted ears atop its head swiveled quickly and inquisitively, seeking out every sound. The creature's wide wet nose sniffed the air. It looked like a canine of some kind. Stan could smell its fur and the distinct animal musk it gave off. It was like nothing he had ever seen. He stared daggers at the intruder. His body ready to fight for his home, his territory.


	9. The Auction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The intruders make their intentions clear as Stan and Emily are thrust into a world they never knew existed.

Chapter 9 - The Auction

\--------------

“Ready?” the voice called out from behind the figure.

Sighing the dog-thing reached behind its back and pulled out a long metal rectangle. With a flip of the creature's wrist the rectangle expanded and cracked open into a rifle of some sort. A yellow-colored electricity arced across its long extruded rectangular barrel as it clicked into place. The weapon emanated a humming noise that grew to a high-electronic screech before going silent in the creature's hands. The creature aimed the weapon, almost casually, squarely at Stan's face. The dog-thing pulled a stock out of the gun's back and braced it against his shoulder. Stan shrunk back, the barrel was being aimed squarely at him. He hesitantly raised his large hands signaling his surrender.

“All clear,” the dog-thing said cautiously as he continued to scan the room. His mouth was full of twin rows of sharp teeth that seemed like they barely fit in his mouth. His eyes were hidden behind the armored mask seemingly bolted to the sides of his furry face. Stan’s mouth was open in shock, unable to fully process the intruder's animalistic details.

“Ahh good,” the voice outside announced as Stan heard gingerly-taken footsteps kick through the trash. 

“Uckk!!! I hate the Heaps, why are inducts always in the Heaps?!” The voice said in frustration while Stan heard inarticulate stomping through the trash outside their home.

“So this is the Young…residence?” A woman appeared inside the doorway, behind the dog-thing. Her voice was breathless from the exertion of making her way through the manicured piles of trash Stan was sure had been toppled by whatever craft brought her to their home. She was a trim woman, dwarfed by the armored creature and even a fair bit shorter than Emily. Stan’s heart pounded in his chest. He tried to repress the anger, the feelings of intrusion. Despite his best efforts his massive erection still jutted out from his groin. The flesh of his male-hood felt so hard that it almost ached.

The woman’s dark hair was pulled back tightly in a bun and she wore a long sharp black dress so featureless it made her look like a single dark column of rock. Her round face was pale and nondescript. She daintily stepped over the transom into the kitchen.

“Put that thing away,“ she pushed on the top of the weapon indicating for the creature to lower it. 

“Stage two’s aren’t-“ she stopped in her tracks, looking directly at his naked form. Stan had never felt so naked in his life as he did in that moment. Being nude in front of his wife of so many years was one thing. This was something else entirely. He cursed the column of meat rising from his crotch. But he was frozen in place, taking in the scene unfolding in front of him.

“Blue…is that…” the woman gasped in disbelief, her eyes widening. 

“You…you’re Stan Young?” She gulped before continuing. Her wide gray-irised eyes met his.

Stan didn’t know what else to do as he weakly nodded his head. His body felt drained of energy as he slipped down the support pole. Its cold metal pressed insistently on the sensitive space between his cheeks as he slid downward towards the floor. Finally with a heavy *thump* he landed on his rear cheeks.

“I…uhh…do apologize about your…home, I tried to upload my personal assistant to your house and it seems to have…killed it,” she said as she looked around, seemingly anxious to look elsewhere, scrunching her face. 

“Oh and…ahh…let’s see here…Emily Young,” she announced while swiping open a shimmering holographic display in mid-air near her face. She closed it quickly and scanned the room before finding Emily, who had taken refuge under the cabinet from the minor-earthquake her ship had caused. Emily was still clutching their few unbroken glass jars against her chest. The woman looked back towards him, her eyes a confusing mix of excited and confused. 

“Oh yes I..should introduce myself. I am Laxantica Sur Retanacho, Inglestoff surveyor class six, but you can both call me Lex,” she smiled weakly. She paced around the dog-creature inspecting the room as the small light drones repositioned themselves out of her way. 

“Whrrtt…what are you doiNNGHHurrrr here?” Stan managed to groan out. The monster in him wanted to fight the intruders. To protect his domain. He was struggling to maintain control. His heavy nuts roiled in their sack. It was taking all his willpower to not massage the ache growing in their tight expanse. 

“I see here that you have…four children,” she said, bringing up the hologram again. A faint light flickered behind her eyes as she took in the information. 

“Kevin, Lilly, Ethan and…Charlotte. Somebody was splurged for that name,” she paused and pursed her lips, as if realizing she was talking aloud. 

Thinking of his kids made Stan’s stomach twist and bunch. The mention of their children was a painful antidote to the anger and lust swirling through his blood. The ground his teeth together at the thought of them seeing him like this.

She turned back to face Stan suddenly. Her gray eyes were unreadable as they reflected the shining drones. He barely cared now that he was still sporting a huge throbbing erection between his legs in front of these strangers.

“Stan…I can call you Stan? You are…I haven’t seen anything like this before honestly,” she stammered awkwardly. She swiped her hands in the air producing a large display in the air. The display shimmered and filled the home with a green-blue light.

“This level of genetic integration…I don’t know how you survived the Haverness Hump. It looks like they…” she went silent as she read. 

“Huurrr…what…” he moaned, his neck tensed as his head strained forward. She was keeping something from him. His head hurt. The pounding in his skull was getting worse. Stan used his arms to try to stabilize himself as they wrapped around his sides. Even with the thoughts of their children seeing him as the monster he was he felt like he was going to lose his grip. His nostrils snorted gales of hot air.

“Th- they coded your a sex drive somewhere ten to twenty times normal. Enhanced primary sexual characteristics…I have never seen Equs with a rating this high alive,” she said as she backed up towards the protection of the armored creature. Her eyes glanced looking towards Emily. The dog-thing’s weapon didn’t waver, its barrel still pointed squarely at his long equine head.

“To be this far along at stage two…and this level of integration…it’s like you were born to be a horse,” she said in some mix of abject shock and barely-contained excitement. Lex quickly panned through screen after screen as if trying to find a rebuttal in her system to what she was seeing. Her eyes darted down as she rubbed her temples in obvious stress. Stan felt like he could almost smell it on her as he took in her scent.

“Emily, if you don’t mind joining us up front?” The woman asked as she composed herself and adjusted the hem of her already straight dress.

Emily struggled to get up, accidentally dropping and shattering one of the jars she was protecting in the process. She knelt down to pick up the shattered glass. Stan wanted badly to help her. But before he could get up Emily had abandoned the shards littering the area around the shelving and hobbled towards them. Her shoes crunched sickeningly through the broken remains of their valuables. Stan could tell she was scared. It made him angry to see her like this. His heart beat faster in his chest. His still-engorged cock bobbed in the air. The angry-red mushroom tip of his penis pointed towards the creature with its large puckered urethra.

Emily was forced to walk around the dog-thing, which she did as quickly as she could before sitting next to him on the floor. Her small body snuggled up to him tightly. Her eyes focused on the imposing creature holding a gun at his head. Stan felt the swelling need to protect her. He snorted deeply through his nostrils as his large balls pulled up between his thighs. A wash of hormones felt like it was being pumped into his blood.

“Oh don't worry about Blue,” The woman said as she saw Emily’s fear.

“He’s all bark, no bite,” she joked as she tapped the canine’s fortified shoulder. 

“Don’t do that,” the creature growled lowly at the touch, lights flashed across his visor but he stood his ground stoically. 

“What..what is he?” Emily gasped as she pressed herself harder against his side. He could feel her thin body shaking against him.

“Oh? Oh yes! I’m sorry about that! Is he the first Lupi you have seen?” Lex asked, seemingly taken aback at her own faux pas. 

“I would suppose not, out of your price-range, so-to-speak,” Lex answered her own question. She wore a derisive smile across her face before realizing what she was doing and replacing it with an artificial neutrality.

“He’s a wolf-type, mostly used for mil-work. He’s my assigned muscle, but mostly helps with cleanup after-“ Lex quickly stopped talking realizing she was saying too much. 

“Is he…like me?” Stan felt a sinking feeling realizing what he was seeing. Lex seemed taken aback at the question.

“No! No! Well…sorry, he is. I mean he used to be human if that's what you’re asking,” she said as she stroked the wolf’s arm almost lovingly.

“Wolves and dogs are a dime a dozen honestly. Could have been a debtor like you both or from the orphan pool. Doesn't matter now, his ingest wiped his history so who knows?" She shrugged, her eyes distant as she panned through the floating glowing screens. She looked up from her display for a moment, "I can assure you he’s not for...what you are for,“ she smirked.

Stan looked at Emily, her eyes were as wide as plates. She was looking between the wolf and him. He could see the concern in her eyes and a deep dread that filled his own gut. He wanted to comfort her, to tell her that wasn’t his face. But it felt like a lie. Stan knew he had signed everything away with that contract. He couldn’t bear to lead her on. Emily would see right through it anyway.

“Is..is that true?” She weakly asked Lex.

“Rrrhhh….yes,” Blue cleared his throat before answered bluntly with a deep growl, surprising Emily so much that Stan felt her body jump against his side. Stan’s ears strained towards the creature, unsure what to make of it.

“My job is to keep new ingests in line,” the wolf said matter-of-factly, like it was the most normal thing in the world to be a giant talking armored wolf. It was only then that Stan noticed a long dark-blue furred tail swaying behind the creature. 

“I’m sorry but we have to move on. We have four more stops scheduled today,” Lex interrupted as she detached a small pod from the plating on the wolf’s arm. Opening it she produced a small syringe-looking device with five long needles. 

“I’m going to have to upload you to the marketplace before the contract can go into effect. Payments will start immediately after the bidding process,” Lex explained as she jockeyed the syringe in her hand. The light behind her eyes began syncing with the small pinpricks of light on the device.

“Blue, get him up,” Lex gestured towards where Emily and him were huddled together on the floor. The wolf began walking forward, sheathing his still-expanded weapon against his back with a magnetic click. Stan felt his legs kick underneath him unconsciously as he recoiled from the advancing figure. 

“Please don’t struggle, if you want to get paid you have to submit,” she tried to explain as Blue was suddenly on top of him. His movements were efficient, calculated, like a machine.

“No! Wait...that hurrrrhttts!!! What are youhhh doing?!” Stan snorted as he attempted to fight off the wolf’s painful grip. His large fists impacted hard armor as he thrashed and kicked. Blue chuckled viciously, totally unaffected by the onslaught. The wolf tightened his grip and hoisted Stan’s body up out of Emily’s terrified embrace. Despite the wolf’s impossible strength, he could hear the motors in the armored suit straining. Blue’s sharp claws carelessly pricked his skin drawing small dots of crimson blood along his upper arm.

“No! HURGH…What are youthhh doing! RNNGHH!!” He moaned as he struggled to free himself.

“This will hurt a bit,” Lex said as Blue pinned his arms behind his back with one paw and wrapped his free arm around Stan’s thick neck in a vice-like headlock. Stan whined, it felt like he was being simultaneously choked and having his arms ripped off by the machine-enhanced beast. 

Lex squared up the needles before pressing them deep into his arm. The metallic spines pierced so deep it felt like the syringe-device touched his bone. He cried out as he struggled to escape but Blue was too strong. Lex pressed a small button on the syringe before releasing it, leaving it embedded in his arm. 

“You’re hurting him! Please, you have to stop!” Emily cried out. Stan could feel her grasping fruitlessly at the wolf’s armor. She was crying, pleading with them for his release.

“Please Emily, this is just standard procedure,” Lex said while keeping her distance. She flicked two fingers to the side signaling something to Blue. Stan felt the wolf holding him shift his stance for a moment, one of the creature's paws left the floor. He couldn’t turn his head enough to see what was happening. The next thing he heard was the sickening thud of his wife’s body hitting the floor.

“Em? Emily? What did you do?!” Stan asked in alarm. His wife’s cries for his safety suddenly silenced.

“Em? What’s hrrr…wrong? What happenedhhh? EMILEEHHRGHH!!” He screamed, his voice deepening as the monster he was becoming ripped at the back of his mind.

“I have to say I am impressed you survived the Hump. You didn’t even kill anybody, not even your wife over there,” Lex looked down at Emily. Any pretense of her being on his side was gone. Stan was seeing red. If they hurt his wife… his mate. His muscles twisted and swelled under his skin. His erection somehow engorged itself with even more of his blistering-hot blood. Foam began forming in the corners of his mouth.

“Hey calm down, calm down. It's just a little kick, nothing, a few med patches and a level seven diagnostic won’t fix,” Lex assured him. “You’ll have the first of your credits as soon as tonight,” she added. 

Stan felt his entire body bunch-up like a coiled spring. He wanted to hurt them. He wanted to tear them apart. The beast inside of him was clawing at his mind. His muscles burned. The monster demanded to be let free. 

“Most of the time we are on ingest cleanup crew. Numbers are still super low, everybody wants a shot at the lottery,” Lex smiled wickedly. “But you…you are something else, I think you are going to fill my quota for the whole month, maybe more.”

Stan bucked at his restraint, the harder he pulled the tighter Blue held him.

“Ahh don’t worry, you should count yourself lucky! The v-twenty-one Equs have all the kinks worked out, just two batches ago all their ribs were bursting out of their chests, disgusting, you can’t imagine the smell,” she quipped as she paced around the room looking through the holographic display in front of her.

“That’s not even the worst, you should see some of the cases we deal with. Just yesterday we visited this woman barely through stage one. Bug in the system, reported she was at stage four. Some sort of cow I think? Multiple breasts out to here,” Lex mimed something approaching watermelons extending from her chest with her hands.

“She was covered in blood, leaking milk everywhere, holding onto her dead-“ Lex’s story was interrupted by the beeping of the syringe in his arm. She wasted no time extracting it, unceremoniously pulling the long needles from his flesh. Stan snorted defiantly as she placed the syringe-thing back into its case and closed it. A small light illuminated on the case and began to flash in time with the light behind her eyes. Lex looked away, leaving Stan held in place by the stoic wolf. 

“I’m uploading now, we will begin momentarily,” she said seemingly to nobody. Even in his rage Stan realized she was talking to somebody remotely through her implants. 

“Yes that's correct,” Lex answered somebody as she paced around their living room, idly kicking the broken remains of the glass jars on the floor. Stan couldn’t help but gasp as the wolf tightened his grip around his throat. He was close enough he could feel the canine’s hot breath on the back of his neck. The anger beating in his chest was making it hard to think. He strained against Blue’s powerful arms but it was no use.

“Agent four-zero-five-nine. I can guarantee authenticity, no modifications. Yes, class-one Equs. All other details should now be visible. If that's all, let's begin,” she said as she turned to face away from him. Her heavy boot tapped impatiently as she crossed her arms over the small rise of her chest. Lex stood there in silence, waving her hands in the air at a series of holographic screens. Minutes passed. Stan tried desperately to glance in Emily’s direction but the wolf wasnt allowing him to turn his neck.

“Wrapping up in five seconds. Wait. No. No. Please double check that. No, sir, that's not-“ she stopped suddenly in her tracks. She turned back to face him with an expression of authentic terror. 

Stan’s blood was boiling. He didn’t care what was happening. He wanted to take care of his wife. They hurt her. He was going to kill them. The anger and concern circled around and around in his head. He couldn’t stop thinking about her prone slumped body just out of sight. His imagination was running wild.

“W..wait, please, that's too-“ Lex stuttered in shock. Her arms were a flurry in the air before suddenly going limp as they flopped to her sides. Her eyes turned towards Stan with something approaching spite. She stared at him for a long time, her lips pursed.

“I don’t know what just happened…” she muttered. “You have a sponsor…” she continued staring into the middle distance. 

“He…outbid all the conglomerate funds, I…don’t…” the light in her eyes flashed rapidly. 

“EMILIEEE…WON’T LET YOU HURRRRTTT!!!!” Stan grunted through gnashing teeth, he didn’t care what she was saying. His legs kicked underneath him to no avail as they landed blows on the wolf’s plated shins. Stan’s partly-changed feet howled in indescribable pain at the impact but he kept trying.

“Quiet please! I have to concentrate….No…no wait…this can’t be happening!” Lex sputtered in front of him, losing her composure, totally ignoring his outburst.

“This cant be fucking happening! They can’t do this to me!” She screamed as she held her head. When she looked up again her previously unreadable eyes looked unfocused and hollow.

“Your sponsor…he bought out your contract and adjunct assets, all of them…” 

“FUCK!” She screamed, pulled her finely manicured hair out of its tight bun.

“I…me and Blue…are assigned to you...exclusively now,” she groaned, tears ran down her face smearing her dark eyeshadow. Stan was frothing at the mouth. He heard the words but couldn’t process them.

“Release? No he’s unstable…No…NO…STOP! What are you do-“ Lex yelled at the screen.

“Blue! BLUE! Do not! DON’T!” Lex screamed.

Blue’s arms shuddered and halted as if being forced open by an unseen power. The servos in his suit were straining, but this time seemingly against the wearer. Stan didn’t care why or how the wolf’s grip had eased, but it was just enough leeway for Stan to break from the creature’s grip. Stan staggered forward on his precarious and painful large toes. 

“Emileee…” he moaned as he looked around desperately for her. Stan saw her crumpled in a pile at the wolf’s feet in a near-fetal position and fully unconscious. It felt like every nerve in his body was simultaneously on fire in anger at the sight of her. 

“HRRGHHH!!!!” He roared. The beast in him raged to the surface. He didn’t care about the company or what power they had. He wouldn’t let them damage his mate.

The bubbling anger jackhammered through his skull. Thick veins pushed against his skin as his muscles knotted and swelled all over his body at once. His back arched, almost driving him to the floor as his pectorals spasmed. Spittle foamed around his mouth as his cock jumped upward, slapping his heaving abdomen. His biceps grew more and more pronounced as his arms held his sides. The wolf was fighting his own armor. The creature’s bony fingers tried to restrain him again by his wrists . But the armor’s motors groaned as they were overpowered by the muscles growing in Stan's arms as he broke the wolf’s grip on him with a powerful jerk.

“EMILLEEE!!! HURRR!!! WON’T LET YOUUU HURRTTT!!!” Stan neighed as his lips pulled back to expose his front teeth. His face thickened and filled out with a series of excruciating cracks. Quickly hardening keratin poured out of his wide toes to form the beginnings of hooves as his long feet broadened and crunched underneath him. He stumbled forward on his new hooves as they grew wider and thicker under his feet. His stance widened, letting his heavy testicles swing between his legs more freely. Stan felt a seething animalistic rage like he had never felt before. His thoughts were a jumble as the anger pushed out all other thought from his mind. 

His feral attention was focused squarely on Lex. Stan stomped towards her, his huge balls pressing between his legs sending shocks of pleasure which mixed into the fury swirling through his every fiber of his being. The muscles in his back and thighs thickened with every step he took towards the small woman. His cock was beginning to issue small clear drops of pre-cum that coursed down his jutting concrete-hard length.

“Blue! Help! BLUE!!!” Lex cried out with a manic urgency. Blue tried his best to restrain him.

“No…no wait…please” Lex cried out as Stan got close enough that his huge flaring nostrils blew hot air across her face. The length of his cock pressed against her abdomen. In that moment Stan wanted nothing more than to dominate her so completely that she could never hurt his mate again.

The wolf was saying something behind him and there was the metallic whirring. Stan paid no attention. The roiling rage was pushing at his mind was all there was. As he reached his large hands towards Lex’s narrow throat he felt the wolf’s powerful paws grab his arms and pull him backwards. Stan snorted and heaved like an animal caught in a trap as he tried to buck the wolf’s grip. 

Unable to release himself he pushed himself backwards into the wolf, sending them both careening and crashing through the room. Their bodies were only arrested as Stan heard the wolf’s unprotected back impact the metal column he had previously been leaning on. The creature was dazed enough to release his arms, allowing Stan to turn and face the wolf-thing.

He wasted no time pinning Blue down against the support, the column shook at the collision. His large hands gripped the wolf’s wrists. There was no armor adorning him anymore. All that the wolf had on now was a form-fitting black suit composed of octagonally woven synthetic cloth. Blue whined underneath him like a hurt puppy as Stan dragged him downward towards the floor with all his strength.

Stan’s head was flailing atop his shoulders, his whole body felt hot. His cock slapped between his bare stomach and the wolf’s own toned abdomen. He wanted, needed to dominate his rival. Pre was leaking his tool more and more copiously with every robust beat of his huge heart. His penis’s weight bounced and ground between them. The slick liquid quickly began to web between Stan’s own bare skin and the wolf’s tight technical shirt. 

Stan couldn’t fight the powerful instincts pounding through his body. He wanted to mate. To drive this rival into the ground. He didn’t even notice Emily’s crumpled-form sprawled on the floor near where they had landed.

“No rrrrgh!! Don’t! Get off!!!” the wolf growl-moaned as he bared his teeth, writhing under Stan’s powerful grip. The canine’s dark black lips pulled back to expose his sharp cuspids in an effort to intimidate him. Stan only grunted and huffed a blast of air in the wolf’s face as the need in him grew more urgent. His groin felt so heavy. He could practically feel the blood pulsing through every vein and artery. Stan wrapped his large hands around the wolf’s sinewy wrists, immobilizing him with the full weight of his body. His thick knees pressed into the wolves legs, fastening them against the floor. Stan nickered lustily. The control was driving him wild. 

“WHINNEEYY!!” Stan screamed, his head rearing backwards. The weight of his cock shuddered as it issued several large dollops of pre-cum through his length onto the writhing wolf below. Blue whined underneath him, his muzzle forced-open as he began to pant from the exertion.

“Urrghhh!! Lex he’s…too strong,” the wolf moaned, his wide thin tongue rolling out of the side of his mouth. Stan saw the canine’s wet nostrils flaring as he took in the dizzying array of strangely arousing musky scents that encompassed them both.


	10. Resistance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can Stan fight to maintain his waning humanity when the horse is growing stronger inside of him?

Chapter 10 - Resistance

\--------------

Stan needed to mate desperately. He didn’t care about another possible attack from the wolf as he released the subdued creature's arms and began manically tearing at Blue’s clothing. His large fingers pulled hard enough that he ripped the thick strapping and buckles that served as anchor points for the armor to attach to the creature's furry body.

Stan made quick work of the tangle of securing mechanisms with a wild animistic abandon. His strong fingers tore through the shirt and rigging easily, exposing tufts of the wolf’s blue fur through the fabric. His cock pressed against Blue’s chest as he moaned. Pre-cum had almost fully coated the underside of his tool as it slapped Blue’s abdomen. Stan moaned, he felt so heavy between his legs. So swollen. The column of ponderous meat hanging off his groin dripped a constant stream of slick lubricant onto the wolf’s furred chest.

Working lower and lower, Stan was soon tearing at the wolf’s pants. It took little effort to disassemble the fabrics that encompassed the canine’s bulbous sheath and plump lightly-fuzzed lemon-sized balls. The wolf’s firm oval-shaped nuts were similar in size to what Stan had woken up to earlier in the day. However, Stan’s virile pair had already well-surpassed them in proportions as they dropped slightly lower between his thighs as if to punctuate their virility. The small red tip of Blue’s male-hood poked out from the fat jiggling sheath. Stan snorted in his musk as it assaulted his nose. Male. Protect. Mate. The simple thoughts pounded his skull. 

“Rrrrghh!! Norrghhh… help me!!! He’s…he’s…rrrghhh!!” The wolf cried out underneath him. Stan had no interest in what was between the creature's legs. His heavy cock began to needfully prod and explore the area underneath the wolf’s balls, pushing them upward against his sheath. Stan neighed as the boiling heat roiled through his loins. The anger at the intruders was feeding into his lust. He desperately needed to sink himself into something, anything.

Stan’s hips ground forward as he sunk his huge length underneath and between the wolf's upper thighs. The tip of his lubricant-slickened cock smearing slick hot pre-cum along the canine’s taught taint as it searched for its target. 

Stan pushed more of himself between the wolf’s legs. Soon he felt the tight puckered hole of the wolf pressing against the tip of his gulping urethra. The wolf’s still-attached visor lit up, the lights flashing and blinking across it as he jerked underneath him. Stan grunted and nickered as he pressed insistently against the wolf’s tight hole. Blue was struggling to free himself but that only made him want to control him, take him, more. 

“YIPPP!” Blue yelped, the wolf’s stupor broken by the invasion. Before Stan could begin to part the prone canine’s anus the wolf’s paws latched onto his back. Sharp nails tore into the thickened skin across his shoulder blades as Blue struggled to stop his advances. Stan could feel his scalding-hot blood seeping from the wounds down the sides of his chest.

“NNNEIIIGHHH!!!” Stan wailed in surprise at the excruciating pain. He tried to rear backward but the wolf’s talon-like grip held firm, keeping him in place. The long throbbing expanse of his cock prodding at the underside of the wolf’s nuts as it tried desperately to withdraw. The pain lanced through him like lightning, firing into every nerve. 

Stan felt his unfocused lust-filled eyes clear as he slowly became aware of where he was and what he was doing. His libido resurged for a moment, threatening to overtake him. He pushed back. The wide teeth ground against each other in his long skull. His mind struggled to burrow through the desire, push it back down. The more he regained his senses the less he wanted to. His whole body shivered and heaved as he took in the scene in front of him. 

“Noo….Nooouuhh!!!” Stan groaned, hot tears stung his eyes, and ran down his muzzle. His body didn’t feel like his own. He was in a stranger’s form, nothing felt right. The pills and goo had taken his humanity from him. He looked down between his legs to see the massive throbbing column of flesh attached to his body sunk beneath the wolf’s animalistic sheath. He could feel the canine’s heavy balls pressing on his length. Stan could barely repress a gag at the sight. He was grinding against another man…no not a man…a beast. A very male beast has was just about to fuck. The heft of the wolf’s weighty male jewels pressed insistently against the firm hot flesh of his penis.

“Hurrrhhh!!! What have you done to meeee,” Stan whinnied, his voice vibrating his thickened throat. The pain of Blue’s claws in his back surged through him, forcing him to hold his position. The canine’s nails were deeply dug into the expanse of his broad back and showed no signs that they would be released. Despite the pain, the heat of the creature felt so good under him. Every squirm of the wolf’s kicking legs was dragging the fuzzed nuts across his erogenous cock-flesh. He shook his head. He didn’t like men. This wasn’t him. He wanted his wife.

“RRRRRGHH!! GET IT OUT!!!” The wolf growled menacingly underneath him. Despite its antagonism the canine’s sinewy legs kicking fruitlessly against the floor.

The monster Stan was becoming didn’t care about his revulsion or even the wolf’s complaint. The more he felt the hot flesh rubbing against his the more he wanted it. Drool leaked out of the sides of his mouth. His mind was filled with images of the wolf’s full sheath and the weighty nuts underneath. How could he have ignored it earlier? He tried to conjure images of his children. But when he did their eyes were accusatory, piercing. They were looking through him. The images were more painful than the wolf’s claws but he tried to hold onto them. He nickered in pain as they were being pushed away by thoughts of his virility, his throbbing, achingly-hard sexual muscle. The desire was clawing at his mind worse than the canine pinned under him was ravaging his back. 

“Nuuhh…I won’t…I won’t fuckk!!! You can’t make me!!! HURRR!!!” he shook his head fighting back the carnal thoughts. He wanted to feel the wolf’s tightness around him. He was so achingly close. No! He wouldn’t give in.

Stan felt like everything he was, everything that his wife had fallen in love with, everything his kids looked up to, was being gradually scooped out of him. Even his sexual appetites were changing, being twisted, by the desire still pounding through his body. He could feel the part of him that wanted to sink his length into the creature begin to take over. He would take what was his. The need pushed ever-deeper into his thoughts. Stan’s eyes rolled in his head as he struggled to maintain command of his faculties. 

“Not…nooo…” He moaned, his cock felt so very heavy.

He only then noticed Lex approaching him on shaking legs with an opened canister of the goo in her arms. It read in bold letters across the tin “Stage Two - 23.5 KCAL”. She was visibly vibrating in fear as she approached him. Her hands constantly reshuffling how they gripped the metal tin. 

“Stan…Mr. Young, your sponsor told me…” Lex paused as she approached hesitantly. Stan’s eyes were locked onto her. He didn’t know what he was going to do, but he could feel the intense anger welling up in him. What they had taken from him, made him do… Made him want… Stan felt the monster begin to surface again. He snorted through his long face. Blood. There was blood in the air. But not the wide swaths of his own iron-scented crimson that had flooded and dried over his ribs. As Lex got closer, close enough for him to reach with one of his arms…he noticed a drop of red ichor drip from her nose. Lex tried to quickly wipe it away.

“Get him off me! Help me!” The wolf cried out. His hands struggled to extricate themselves from the deep ribbons they had cut into his back.

“He wanted me to give this to you,” she said, looking down at Blue than up at him in an attentive fear. She hoisted the opened canister shakily towards him, ignoring Blue’s growling pleas. He could see her wince in pain at the effort. The thoughts of hurting her drained from him as he heard her speak. Stan could tell something was deeply wrong. She was different, almost submissive. He wanted to puzzle out what was going on but he couldn’t think, the smell of the goo was already beginning to saturate his nose. 

“I-I’m…sorry that Blue..that Blue….AHHH!!!” Lex yelled suddenly, doubling over as if somebody had stabbed her in the gut. More blood leaked from her nose. She almost dropped the canister but saved it at the last moment. He noticed that her previously composed dress looked disheveled and out of sorts. 

“Don’t apologize to him…he’s…he’s… nnnrghhh!!!” The wolf under him groaned as he suddenly thrashed and jerked. His visor’s lights began to blink from white to red as they scattered across the metal face-shield.

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I’ll do it, don’t hurt Blue!” She began to repeat, almost groveling. Stan opened his mouth to respond but even in his current state, he realized she wasn’t talking to him. Stan could tell something was hurting her, forcing her to act this way. He struggled to connect the dots. It could have been the same thing that had freed him from the grip of the canine’s armor. It was all blurring together. It hurt to push thoughts through the cloudiness that began to move back in over his mind. 

“Nurrrhh!!! Stay away!” Stan warned, his voice surprisingly deep and throaty. His lips pulling back over his teeth as he snorted at her. He knew if she got any closer he wouldn’t be able to control himself, his authority over his actions was hanging on by a thread.

“Lex! HELP ME!!! LEX THEY’RE NNRGHHH!!” The wolf wailed as his muzzle snapped open and shut rapidly. His legs kicked hard enough that they dislodged themselves from under his pinning knees. But instead of using the newfound freedom to extricate himself, the canine continued to thrash and convulse, his hips thrusting into the air before slamming down again. All the lights across his visor flashed red. The wolf’s groans of what sounded like excruciating pain devolved into panting moans of submissive need.

Stan was as alarmed at what was happening underneath him as he was by the approaching canister held at face-level for him. He wanted desperately to dislodge himself, he knew this may be his only chance to escape. He could grab Emily and run. His body began to move, but as he moved his thighs the ministrations of the furry creature below him sent shocks of pleasure through his aching head. The wolf’s fuzzy taint was bouncing on the tip of his engorged shaft. The shocks of pleasure worked their way deep into the root of his cock and pooled in his swinging balls. 

“Stophhh…nooooORRHUGHN!!!” Stan moaned, his voice becoming bestial as the canine’s hole pushed tantalizingly against the throbbing head of his cock before retreating. His heavy nuts dropped lower in their sac between his legs as they began to pulse and churn. Blue began whining and panting below him. The creature’s previously aggressive growls reduced to a series of submissive whimpers. 

Stan winced as the wolf withdrew his paws from his back and wrapped his arms around the thick base of his neck in an almost passionate embrace. Blue’s dark fur hid how drenched in his life-blood the canine’s paws were. Stan didn’t have a moment to process what was happening before the canister of goo was in front of his face. He tried to steer his long nose away but it was no use. He felt drawn to it like a compass seeking a magnetic pole.

“Please…nurrhhh,” he begged weakly with the last of his willpower. He couldn’t stop himself from driving his mouth directly into the brown goo. But instead of being hit by the initial rotten, bitter taste, all he could sense was the smell of warm fresh-baked bread and every other delicious savory thing he had experienced in his life. He ate ravenously, almost knocking the can out of Lex’s hands. 

As he ate he could feel a pinching sensation in his back. The deep lacerations began to quickly knit themselves together, staunching the already diminished bleeding. 

“HURR!! MY BACCKK!!! HUUREEE!!” he whinnied as he gasped for air from the goo. His back arched as he continued to neigh wetly at the sensation. The wide teeth in his upper and lower jaw separated with thin sinuous goo-saturated strands as he ravenously slurped the remains of the mixture from his broad nose. He nickered more and more urgently as his back repaired itself and grew stronger by the moment. Muscle twisted over his shoulder-blades as his bones creaked wider under his skin. 

Stan snorted in surprise as he felt Blue curl his now-freed hind paws around his waist. The taught muscular legs of the canine hoisted his hips upward so that Stan’s frame was supporting much of the wolf’s substantial weight. Blue’s repositioning had aligned him so that his hole pressed even more heavily at the tip of Stan's tool. 

He tried to shake him off but Blue whimpered below him as if begging him to pierce his inner sanctum. However needfully he moaned the wolf seemed unable or unwilling to initiate the action himself. Stan tried to stop himself from thrusting back against the wolf with every fiber of his being. If he did this there was no going back. He kept trying to remind himself he didn’t like males. But the feelings of the canine’s athletic furry body against his told him otherwise. He could smell the wolf’s musk that permeated every strand of its dark-blue fur. The delicious weight of the canine’s testicles rubbing the top of his cock… He wanted to feel Blue’s tight hole wrapping his erection so badly. The instincts pounding at the back of his head told him to breed the wolf.

“s..stan…what…” Emily weakly breathed just to the side of him. Stan's ears swiveled atop his head in surprise, only partially distracting him from the lust pounding through his groin. He looked at her crumpled form. Emily’s eyes blinked slowly like she was waking from sleep. Her arm snaked its way from under her body and reached out for him. Her fingertips caressed his large knee.

“Don’t look Emileeee…Huurghhh!! I can’t shhtaaapp,” he moaned, looking away from her. His muscles bunched under his skin as he tried to hold himself back. Emily was feebly petting his knee, a reminder of who he was. It felt like he was being torn apart on the inside. He snorted through his nose. The feeling of his wife watching him somehow only made the lust return more intensely. The thought of her eyes on his tool as it entered the wolf made him moan in unwanted pleasure. His heart was beating so hard that it filled the entirety of his long scooped ears. 

“Oh…Stan,” Emily whispered, her voice barely audible over his heartbeat. It wasn’t filled with admonishment or disapproval. He realized she was trying to comfort him. 

Stan neighed as he made a last-ditch attempt to fight the instincts. He didn’t want her to see him like this. The feeling of shame at what he was becoming stirred his thoughts into a jumbled mash. The need to bury his cock in something was the only clear thing he could focus on. Images of the wolf’s tight but hefty package pushed into his thoughts. Tears streamed down his face as his eyes rolled up into his skull. He felt so hot. The weight on his crotch was driving him to near madness.

“DON’T LOUUHHKKK!” He managed to choke out before his hips began to grind forward. The tip of his long cock pushed against the tight ring of the wolf’s hole. He wanted to take the wolf, dominate him. Pre-cum splattered from his gulping urethra, preparing the puckered entrance. He tried desperately to pull himself back from the brink but he couldn’t fight it anymore. 

“YIP!! Uhnnn! UUHNNN!!!” Blue moaned, his head rocking to the side. The canine’s breathing speed up as the mushroom-shaped head of Stan’s cock spread the canine’s tight unyielding hole open. Stan whinnied at the compression of the wolf’s body on his engorged tip. The monster in him was determined to sink his entire length into the furry wolf-thing. 

The wolf below him whined in pleasure as he pushed himself deeper into its dark clenching recesses. Blue’s legs tightened around his waist as inch after inch of his throbbing meat sank into the beast. Blue began to grind his hips down onto his cock, arching his back as more than half of Stan’s length penetrated him. The wolf’s long muzzle, full of sharp teeth, parted as he panted and yowled urging him deeper. 

The hot breath issuing from his canine mouth saturated the thick muscles of Stan’s neck with heat. They both began rocking back and forth in unison. Stan’s large hands gripped the floor for support as the wolf ground against him. His heavy balls slapped the space between his thighs. The expansive flesh of his orange-sized nuts dragging across his skin was driving him to thrust faster and more insistently.

Stan could feel something hard and hot creeping up his wet pre-cum soaked abdomen. It felt like a tapered cylinder of flesh. Fiery, increasingly-hard, throbbing flesh. Stan craned his long head downward to try to sneak a peek at what it could be. But his interest in what was happening between their bodies was interrupted as another few inches of his cock sank into the wolf. His head whipped backward as he neighed in pleasure. Even as the shocks of euphoria coursed through his tool he knew instinctively that it was the wolf’s male-hood pressing against his stomach. 

The musky smell of the wolf’s exposed cock was driving him mad. His heavy balls shuddered between his legs as the skin of his sac felt several sizes too small to contain them. Stan responded by thrusting harder and more urgently into the wolf as the column of male-hood between them thickened. He could feel the slick wetness of pre-cum begin pressing between their two bodies. The slippery liquid issued anew from atop the canine’s spire with every needful press of his cock into the canine’s depths. Blue yelped in ecstasy below him, the wolf's dense rear cheeks spreading wide for his insistent endowment.

The slick lubricant from the wolf began to re-wet his already pre-drenched stomach. The heat of it against his body made him nicker and snort. The need to breed the creature below him never felt more urgent. Stan jerked his nethers forward, pushing the wolf’s body across the floor with the power of his thrust. Blue whined as he accepted another few inches of Stan’s heaving girth with a delicious resistance. His cock began pistoning through the wolf’s tight expanse. He needed to get more of himself inside of the creature. Inches of him drew out from between the wolf’s spread ass cheeks before sinking back in with a wet squelch. His long cock was lubricated by the copious pre-cum that slavered the wolf’s backside. 

Stan wasn’t too preoccupied breeding the wolf under him to notice that the stinking goo was still positioned at face-level. The smell along with the wolf’s musk was intoxicating as he submerged his jerking head into the canister. The motion almost knocked down Lex, drawing the canister frustratingly away from his face before she could shakily reposition it. Stan slurped greedily at the goo as his body ground against the wolf with all the strength and power he possessed.

“MURRHHH!! MORRRRHH!!” He moaned deeply and wetly, his mouth saturated with the mouthwatering brown ichor. His stomach felt bloated with the volume of the mixture he had ingested but he was still hungry. His long tongue attempted to scrape the last bits that clung to the rim. Lex let go of the tin as Stan craned his head upward, huffing like an animal trying to extract any morsel he could retrieve before the container slipped from his muzzle. 

The vessel hit the floor with a loud metal clatter before rolling out of his narrowly focused vision. Within seconds Lex had produced the last stage-two canister. Before she could even fully unbuckle the lid Stan pried at the opening with his teeth. Tossing it violently aside his tongue slurped at the freshly exposed goo and began to ravenously eat. He felt so full but he couldn’t stop. 

“Uhh!! Uhhhh! Uhhhnnn!!” The wolf moaned under him. He was thrusting faster and faster into Blue while he ate. His mouth used the undulations of his body to scoop rich scoops of the mixture into his wide esophagus. The sounds of his eating and grunting whining of Blue being driven across the floor were becoming a cacophony of lust.

“NRRGHH!!! ARR!! ARRHHH!!! AAAAWWOOO!!!” The wolf cried out beneath him. Its grip on his torso tightened, forcing Stan to slam his cock deep into the wolf’s clenching tight hole. Stan felt the wolf’s column of flesh which pressed against his stomach tense and grow harder. The wolf’s engorged penis discharged a hot rope of jism straight up into his abdomen which back-splattered back onto the wolf’s furry body. The hot sticky wetness was followed by another thin rope as the wolf’s tapered tool slapped between their still-grinding torsos. Stan could feel and smell the musky wolf semen that splattered across his chest. Something in him wanted to taste it, feel its texture on his tongue. 

Stan felt torn between the tight rapture of his cock almost fully encased in the wolf’s hindquarters and the need to consume the ambrosia that filled his mouth and nose. Stan’s lust-addled solution was to eat faster. He barely tasted the goo as he slurped it down. 

Soon his entire long mouth was so full of the goo that he was on the verge of choking. With a few more huge greedy slurps he had finished the majority of the can’s contents. His stomach felt so full that its distended expanse pushed against the wolf’s still-erect cum-smeared cock. Stan withdrew from the tin, gasped for air through goo smeared across his nose and face.

His lips flared backward revealing his wide teeth, his head craning upward. He felt his orgasm building to a head as he pushed the final inch of his immense girthy cock into the wolf’s abused hole. The wolf’s large firm balls pressed tightly against his groin. He had fully hilted all twelve-inches of his throbbing meat into the creature. He felt his balls draw up between his legs towards his taint.

“NNNNEEIIGHHH!!!!” He screamed lustily as his thoughts became even more carnal. A powerful column of jism pushed through the rigid convulsing muscle thrust deep into the wolf. Stan’s neck tightened as all the muscles in his body squirmed under his skin. His urethra pressed shut suddenly, the head of his cock swimming in the first rope of his semen. 

Something was holding him back from cumming again. The pressure in his loins was building. He let out an animalistic cry as his cock began to thicken and swell within the wolf’s already excruciatingly tight hole. His entire length pulsed. Thick veins grew throughout his penis’s exterior, feeding the thickening muscle fresh waves of hot blood. His whole penis was pounding harder and harder. The pounding bled into his pelvis and then the rest of his body. Flesh and bones all over his body were caught in the impact of the wave as they distended, grew, and crunched into place.

Stan’s clenched balls swelled between his thighs as they pushed into his leg flesh with an intoxicating virility. The pressure in his nuts was immense as they pulsed and swelled in their sac. The twin orbs felt so hot, the tightly drawn skin wrapping them prickled with a pleasant pinching. His swelling testicles were approaching the size of two ripe apples. The weight of the orbs pressed them against each other causing them to churn and hitch even more urgently. The skin around them struggled to catch up to their increased size as they were held achingly aloft near his taint. Stan couldn’t keep his head from craning skyward at the ecstasy crashing through his heavy nuts.

He gurgled at the pleasure, his head whipping around in a frothing, almost rabid, motion. It started raining curly black hairs from atop his head. His disheveled, but freshly-washed, hair began to fall out from his scalp. He could feel every follicle individually and painfully expelling the last vestige of his head’s lingering humanity. He winced with a loud snort as he felt the same process take place just above the root of his cock and under his armpits. The wispy pubic hair coating his groin was being pushed out of him and into the tightly compacted balls of the wolf that were pressed between them.

“NUUR!!! WHINNEEYY!!!” Stan cried out as his cock became too large for the wolf’s excruciatingly-tight hole to fully accept. The column of rigid heaving flesh pressed as hard into his groin as it was into the wolf. His lengthening member dragged the wolf across the floor as he grew longer and thicker with every powerful beat of his enlarged heart. Soon a full inch or more was sticking out from the wolf’s yawning pucker. Stan tried to force himself back in but it only pushed the wolf’s body like a furry mop. He could feel himself growing heavier between his legs and it was only driving him to greater heights of euphoric lust. 

Like a dam breaking, his urethra was forced open by the immense built-up pressure behind it. Stan’s mouth yawned open as he fought to gulp down enough air. His penis shot a long immense column of cum into the wolf like a bullet from a gun. The wolf’s body compressing his cock made him feel every milliliter of jism being forced through his tool. The wolf howled and writhed below him in pleasure, its legs kicking. 

“NRRRGHH!!” Stan groaned, his neck and back strained at the pleasure as another thin column of the wolf’s wet cum spurted from the tapered tool pinned between them. The blast of jism saturated the wolf’s opening and soon oversaturated Blue’s capacity to hold it. The swirling hot cum pushed back against his throbbing length, worming its way past their immensely tight connection onto the floor beneath them. 

Even as he continued to cum his hips were undulating and thrusting. The feeling of Blue’s innards pulling and sucking wetly on his cum-soaked length was driving him to madness. Gales of sticky white semen spilled out of the wolf’s hole with every inch he pulled out and then rammed back in. Stan neighed and snorted in aggravation. Despite the pleasure, he was still unsatisfied. He drove his spurting cock into the wolf harder. He barely noticed that his distended goo-filled stomach was starting to flatten underneath him. 

Stan’s knees spread wider across the floor as his swollen balls dropped lower in their sac. His nuts were now low enough that their pendulous motion began to slap the wolf’s jism-saturated rear cheeks with every thrust of his hips. The orgasm continued to crash through him even as the ropes of cum he pushed into Blue waned to a whatever his convulsing urethra still had lodged in its engorged length. Stan couldn’t stop rocking his hips, the pleasure was too great to stop, even though his penis was dryly heaving. 

“NEIIIIIGHHHH!!!” He roared again, the heat was getting worse, not better. His rear cheeks were swelling with fat and muscle behind him as they ballooned outward. The skin around his chest felt far too tight as his ribs pushed against his sides. Each bone thickening as it snapped and cracked, barreling his chest outward. The small tailbone jutting from atop his bulging ass cheeks stretched outward as its base thickened. Inch after inch pushed out as his spine extended out of his body. 

Stan gasped for air. The once pleasurable tightness of the wolf’s insides now felt constricting, claustrophobic. He tried to extricate himself from the wolf but Blue’s grip on him hadn’t waned. Shaking his torso like a wet dog he finally loosened the wolf’s embrace. Blue yipped in surprise as his elevated rear cheeks impacted the ground. Inches of his cock drew out of the space between the wolf’s rear cheeks in the process. 

The powerful suction of juices pulled his tool made his cock convulse with pleasure. Somehow his body found a hidden reserve of cum, enough to spurt one last small rope into the wolf’s hole as he departed. With a wet *schlorp* he removed himself. His withdrawn cock brought with it a small tidal-wave of semen that outpoured from the wolf’s gaping rear hole.

His freed cum-soaked cock batted and ground against Blue’s still-erect tool. Stan could feel the substantial size and weight difference between them even without looking as their male-hoods pressed against each other. Stan nickered and huffed as his thighs began to tense and release. His legs were growing thicker with every heavy breath, their expanse pressed urgently against the side of his balls forcing him to knicker in pleasure. The connective knuckles above his hooves bulged as more keratin spilled from where his toes used to be. His hooves were growing wider and stronger by the moment, their hard exteriors clacked against the hard kitchen floor. The orgasm felt like it was still sweeping through him as his legs plumped with muscle and fatty flesh. 

His back spasmed as it broadened, stretching his skin to the limit as his backbone’s vertebrae pushed upward, making themselves pronounced between his wide shoulder-blades. Stan was so preoccupied with the strange pleasurable feelings of his swelling legs that he almost didn’t notice that his arms were stretching, lifting him higher off the floor, away from the wolf’s panting muzzle. His fingers scratched at the floor before bunching up into two hard fists. The muscles up and down his arms tensed hard. His digits were crunching against each other, jockeying for enough room on his hand as they stretched longer and thicker.

Dark keratin pushed out his human nails as each of his grasping fingers was capped by a thick bark-like substance that resembled his hooves. His pinkie began to push excruciatingly hard against his ring finger, the flesh was so close that it began to merge. The skin around the two opening up as he could feel the bones in his hand reshuffle. Veins popped on the backside of his palms over tendons drawn as tight as bridge-cables. 

He was soon left with four large strong fingers on each hand. Stan wanted to grieve the loss of his pinkies but instead let out a lusty moan as the wolf below him began to masturbate his length with his rough paws, the strokes pushing their tools even more heavily together. Stan reciprocated the wolf’s gesture by thrusting his hips, dragging his male-hood heavily against the creature’s. Blue moaned orgasmically under him, his paws fell away as his weak hips thrust upward to grind against the monster Stan had become. Blue yowled as he issued another small volley of cum from his tapered tool. Once finished the wolf fell limp below him.

Stan snorted in frustration at his partner's lack of stamina. He felt unfulfilled. He reared backward with a heavy breath. The length of his cock bobbed in the air, it was monstrous, at least thirteen-inches long and a circumference of eight inches. Large angry purple and red veins laced the muscle as it drooled some vestigial cum from its wide tip. Past his still-throbbing cock he looked down at the wolf for the first time since their mating. 

The canine was breathing roughly. The creature’s furred chest rose and fell slowly, saturated with the remains of their mating. Blue’s cum splattered as far as the underside of his gaping muzzle. The wolf’s movements were slow, uncoordinated. His cock was still out on display, the red tapered column drooped against his abdomen. The canine’s cock length barely reached more than halfway up the canine’s stomach as it receded into his sheath. 

Stan snorted, breathing in the wolf’s scent. Much of it was concentrated around the dense red bunching of muscle that encircled its flared base. Stan’s eyes were attracted to movement below the wolf. It was Blue’s tail, once fluffy, It was so saturated in globs of congealing cum that it struggled to wag underneath his gaping abused hole.

Blue didn’t seem to notice that Stan was no longer above him. Blue’s paws felt for him in the air as the wolf whined quietly like a dog separated from its owner, spurred on by a need Stan instinctually felt was much like his own. The grasping paws of the canine waned until finally, his arms slumped on-top of him. The wolf had completely passed out.

Stan neighed in frustration. The entirety of his legs ached. Trying to alleviate it he thrust his hips outward, making his huge cock seem larger but the shifting of his pelvis did nothing to remove the deep near-pain that filled his lower body. Stan huffed, the only way he could alleviate it was by standing. Unsteadily he brought his hooves forward until they found purchase on the floor. With a great deal of effort, he staggered on top of his unfamiliar hooves. 

The slick keratin suddenly slipped beneath him on the cum-drenched floor. Instead of falling he deftly caught his large body with a quickly repositioned leg. It was more instinct than thought. His huge apple-sized balls jostled in their sac as he stabilized himself. The feeling of their heavy virility made him want to grope their expanse. His large four-fingered hands reached between his legs as he reared to his full height. Bones cracked and repositioned themselves with his new orientation. The top of his head grazed the drooping ramshackle of wires bolted and tied onto their ceiling. 

His large nuts jockeyed for position between his legs. Gravity pulled them down his thighs before he clasped them in both hands. He nickered at the feeling of their tight flesh against his palms. Each one was larger than he could wrap his hand around. Enraptured by the expanse of his balls he began to stroke his cock and neigh. He didn’t hear the footsteps outside or smell the new intruders until they had begun to encircle him. 

Stan looked up from his reverie to see that their home was filled with white-armored soldiers. They looked different than Blue, their armor was more sleek, untarnished. All of them were human, all pointing guns that looked several generations more advanced than Blue’s rifle in his direction. He released his balls and snorted angrily at the trespassers. Neighing aggressively his huge cock whipped around with his body as he lashed out at the soldiers. They held their ground, unflinching. The long strips of light in their armors in lockstep with each other. He was ready to lunge, the muscles in his digitigrade legs tensed powerfully under his skin.

“D..dad?” The voice crashed against his euphoria and rage. All the blood drained from his hot face but he couldn’t understand why. He knew this voice. He struggled to remember through the lust and anger. It was his son. Kevin. His son Kevin. Tears began welling in his large eyes. How could he forget something like that? He neighed in grief.

Stan spun around to see a middle-aged man dressed in a spotless white suit holding his son’s hand at the entrance of their home. His son's visage was as pale and bloodless as his own. Kevin's eyes were wide, full of disbelief and horror that stabbed at his heart. Stan's whole body shook at the rush of embarrassment at his son seeing him like this. Every inch of his naked, heaving, fluid-splattered skin was covered with goosebumps. Nothing was hidden from his son's gaze. 

“Please calm down Stan, we’re here to help,” the man assured him with a peacefully raised calming hand. “Don't worry, I work exclusively for your new sponsor,” the man explained calmly as if measuring every word carefully.

“We’re here to take you home,” the man said with a smile.


End file.
